In The Arms of a Vampire
by Lunasirnape257
Summary: What can go wrong when you got a lonely man, a vampire in love and a third party? The Summer job of Will Graham in Lithuania is going to be more complicated than they all expected.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMERS:** The characters that appear in this story - except those who have never appeared on the tv show or in the novels/films relating to the character of Hannibal Lecter and, therefore, are entirely my invention and property to the development of the plot – don't belong to me. Its creation and rights are owned by Thomas Harris, Bryan Fuller, the NBC Channel and the DeLaurentis company.

 **NOTE:** I'd like to thank my friend Jossette (and her boyfriend Andreas, who has colaborated with the phrases in Lithuanian. Thanks, Andreas, I'm very grateful for that :) for this translation. I've wanted translate my Hannigram fics into English for a long time but unfortunately I still can't manage well enough with the language... and then she has given to me this amazing surprise and I'm absolutely grateful for it :D I hope English-speaking fannibals can enjoy this as well as Spannish-speaking fannibals do. I must apologize for any grammar or quotation mistake (English quotation is very different from Spanish quotation): I'm my own betareader and obviously English is not my mother tongue so I hope I haven't committed too much errors.  
Having said that, I'm in your hands. Cross my fingers and I hope you enjoy the story =}

* * *

 **I**

It was a quiet night. The temperature had dropped to eighteen degrees, which made the night warm, but not too much.

At the International Airport of Vilnius (Lithuania), Will Graham finished crossing the customs and walked around the huge terminal with his luggage in his hand, looking for the exit. Around him the signs were written in English and Lithuanian but this did not help much to his brain, dull after a journey of more than ten hours by plane and fed solely on the basis of adrenaline and coffee.

By inertia, he was found in the footsteps of other travelers hoping they could get him out. On the way, he decided to take a look at the wristwatch on his left wrist, which he had scheduled before leaving the United States to reflect local time: according the hands, it was almost midnight. New Orleans would be seven hours less. Maybe he could call Jack and Bella when he was installed in order to warn them that he had arrived safely―

At last he found the exit and walked toward it, relieved. At that time the airport was almost empty but it was still a vast and desolate place in the middle of a dark night. A little impressed. Gave him the willies.

On leaving he saw the taxi rank right in front, a bus stop a little to the left and parked across the street, a big black Cadillac. He stared at it, surprised and admired. Surely the vehicle drew attention by its elegance and size- but not as much as its driver, who was waiting for him with a smile, leaning against the passenger door. She was dressed entirely in black, with a jumpsuit and high heels. Her long dark hair fell around her shoulders and in the middle of the night her pale porcelain skin and her pretty blue eyes, shining like gems, highlighted.

He walked attracted to her, even before Alana rised his hand up to greet him and make him gestures to closer. He met the woman on the other side, and looking closer at her he couldn't help but stare her stunned.

'You're amazing.' was the first thing he thought and the first thing out of his mouth.

Alana laughed, a musical and crystalline sound, like a fingertip sliding around the rim of a glass of wine.

'Thank you. But the record has not been so long since the last time we met, Will. Only five years.'

'Still, it's―,' he could not find the words, 'You have not changed at all, and yet, you've changed so much―'

'That happens when you are far from home for years, I guess. Do you want me to help you with the luggage?'

'Oh,' he notice his luggage at that moment. He had completely forgotten it due to the excitement of the reunion, 'Thanks, I can manage. If you don't mind open the trunk for me―'

Alana obeyed, pressing the button of the electromagnetic key. He introduced his luggage in the trunk and she closed it with one hand. They got together into the car and the woman put the engine running, entering traffic as had occasion.

They hadn't to travel far to reach the city. Will concentrated all the time in the landscape he saw through his window, making an effort not to stare at her friend as a stalker. He found difficult to take his eyes off her. It must be for the years they had passed without see each other. Alana had always been beautiful but now she was glowing. Her beauty had a hypnotic quality.

'What do you think about Vilnius?' she asked, breaking his train of thoughts.

'It's nice. Now I can't see much, but―'

\- You'll love it by day. It is a city full of art and monuments. It has a lot of history and its architecture is fascinating. I'm sure you'll end up falling in love with it.'

'I believe you,' he smiled, looking down when the other turned to face him, smiling, 'I still have to thank you to get me this assignment,' he said after a pause.

'Nothing to thank, Will: I knew you were perfect for the job. Besides, I like the idea of seeing you again.'

'Me too,' he admitted.

'When I showed your work to Hannibal, he gave his approval immediately. He is eager to meet you.'

'He's at home?' he asked, curious. Alana hadn't told him so much about his boss. He knows little about the man who had paid all the expenses of his trip and also was going to pay for his stay in the country during the weeks it would take him to restore the copies.

'He's out tonight. But don't worry: if you do not meet him today, then tomorrow.

'Does he go out a lot?'

'Every night. Hannibal is a night owl. He is attracted by the bustle and life of the city.'

Will grimaced, trying not to look disapproving or impolite. He hated the noise and crowds, shunned like the plague. He preferred to live his life away from civilization, in a state that his closest described as seclusion. But apparently his boss was just the opposite: a lover of social contact― or perhaps a party animal.

'Knowing him, I can assure you that he will be enjoying one of the most exclusive clubs in Vilnius, right now'.

Will nodded, understanding. His boss was a sybarite.

* * *

Hannibal Lecter liked to enjoy the pleasures of life: good music, good food, good art― anything that pleased and stimulate his senses.

It could'n be say that the girl who danced in the middle of the dance floor in club Valos was exhilarating. For others maybe, but not for him: she has short blond hair and a slender body that moves to the rhythm of music. She was clad in a elegant black dress and high heels, dressed to conquer.

She was attractive.

She was predictable.

She was simple.

He approached her when her gaze turned to meet his, for the umpteenth time that night. She had felt his eyes fall on him since he crossed the threshold of the club and she had spent all the time trying to catch him: giving a drink to his table, approaching him to chat and exhibiting herself at the ball every time she believed he was watching. He had tried to ignore it and politely make her see he was not interested but she was persistent and― most importantly at this stage of the night― she was a pushover.

A few sentences were enough to earn her. She had been waiting for him and had no intention to refuse or stop his progress. Few dance steps and she was in his arms. Few words whispered in her ear and she laughed, holding on to him to reaffirm his proposal to spend a nice night together. He placed his lips on the thin neck and she let him do, enjoying the caresses that his mouth and his tongue lavished on her until it was time: when she more wanted it, when she was more vulnerable and trusting, when the music was at its swing and everybody around them were busy on other things.

Carefully, he breaks the skin with his fangs and received a little cry - which eventually became a moan of pleasure - in return. He felt the warmth of blood in his mouth and looked instinctively for the taste. He fed on her until he was sated, until she almost lost consciousness and he had to leave, leaving her sitting in a booth near the bar and asking the waiter for a fruit juice, which he stood in front of the girl for she drunk it and recovered as soon as possible.

He left as she took the first sip. Tomorrow she would not remember anything. Maybe she would remember the man she had been chasing all night but would not know for sure what had happened with him, not as she had finished her adventure. She would blame alcohol for the fatigue and the forgetfulness and perhaps thought that she had succeeded if she saw the mark on her neck, which could easily be mistaken for a hickey. Maybe she wanted to repeat the next night, hoping to meet him again at the club.

She wouldn't succeed. Hannibal did not feel a special attachment to that place - few clubs in the city had their approval. Disadvantages of being a perfectionist - just used it occasionally as a hunting ground. And like any nocturnal predator in nourishing grounds he liked to vary.

In those moments he reached the parking lot and did not take long to find his car, a dark-colored Bentley. He climbed into the vehicle and drove off, eager to get home. The sun would rise in a few hours. The hunt had taken him longer than he expected.

He grimaced in disgust at the time reflected in the digital car clock.

He had not arrived in time to greet his guest. He would have to wait for that night to meet Will Graham.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

Will woke up that morning having slept only a few hours. He was exhausted but was unable to sleep, so he decided to get out of bed and begin his work routine. He hoped his body get soon used to the new time zone and get over the effects of jet lag.

After making his bed and go through the bathroom, he down the stairs towards the kitchen. The house was plunged into a deathly silence. The huge penthouse, which occuped the entire top floor of the building, was like a mausoleum: elegant, dark and silent.

Alana must have gone to work yet – she had its own advisory company - and Hannibal would still be sleeping, no doubt. Last night they had not seen him, even though they had been waiting for him for over an hour in the livingroom. Alana had even served a small snack on beer and cold cuts in order to pass fool his uneasy stomach and also pass the time while they wait for― deception had worked, waiting not.

Will crossed the arch that separate the kitchen and the hallway and found breakfast on the kitchen table: there was a basket with toast, bowls of butter and jam, a plate of scrambled egg, a pitcher of orange juice with a corresponding tall glass, and a cup of something which was not coffee and that smelled suspiciously like ginger.

There was a white envelope on the table. It had his name written in a neat handwriting that he knew from experience that did not belong to Alana.

Intrigued, he opened the envelope and read the letter he found inside:

 _Dear Will:_

 _Forgive me for not being here to greet you on your arrival. Matters of vital importance held me in the city longer than I would desired but I will have great pleasure to meet you tonight at dinner― or sooner, if we are lucky._

 _I trust that the flight and accommodation have been to your liking. I have taken the liberty to make you breakfast in order to try to compensate you for my lack of attention. I beg you try the ginger tea: it is a very effective remedy for jet lag―'if fortunately you not suffer so upset syndrome, please also take it. I guarantee it tastes delicious and it will help you start your day with energy._

 _It only remains for me to reiterate my desire to meet you finally in person. I am counting the hours. Alana has told me of the many wonders of your person and I am sure that you will meet each and every one of the qualities that our mutual friend has described me._

 _Take care of yourself, Will. I wish you spend a great day and enjoy the many charms of my city and my country when you visit them in your free time._

 _Your dear friend and humble servant:_

 _HL_

Will blinked, surprised. Are people still writing notes as well? Was it an European custom? Whatever, he was a little bit overwhelmed to receive such treatment and immediately forgot the resentment he felt toward his host for failing to meet him the night before. Count Lecter did not have to and still he was kind enough to make him breakfast and he had even prepared ginger tea to help him with his jet lag.

Hannibal Lecter would be a party animal, but he was also a gentleman. That could not be denied.

Will put the letter aside and sat down to have breakfast. He tasted food with quite an appetite, tasting sips of the Count was right: it was exquisite and made him to leave the table with renewed energies, ready to give his best throughout the day. He had planned to work in the morning and, after lunch, heading out to Vilnius. He was eager to walk around the center, which was only a few blocks away, and walk along the wide avenue that connected the cathedral with the city council. According to the virtual travel guide he had consulted before traveling, the center of Vilnius was a must for any visitor.

At the end of breakfast, he scoured the dishes and left everything neat and tidy, as he had found it. Before leaving the kitchen towards the library, where he would perform his work, he walked past a notebook that was attached to the wall and served to leave notes to the inhabitants of the house or to target the shopping list, for sure.

He saw the pen hanging over the side of the book and came up with an idea.

He carefully pulled one of the leaves and, seizing the pen, leaned on the table to address a few words to his host.

* * *

 _Dear Hannibal:_

 _Thank you for my breakfast. It was delicious. It was a detail on your part. Ginger tea worked swimmingly: I feel much better and you were right, it tastes really delicious._

 _I hope not disappoint you. I do not know that Alana have told you about me, but I'm nothing spectacular: only an amateur restorer from New Orleans. I hope that my work can be useful and that the results are to your liking. I am very grateful for all the trouble you have been taken for me. I'm sure I will enjoy my stay in Vilnius and in your country― I'm doing it yet._

 _Well, not much more to add. I say goodbye and hope you have a great day too. Take care of yourself._

 _Sincerely yours:_  
 _WG_

 _PS: I found the coffee, but where is the coffee maker?_

A smile curled the man's lips, as his eyes were finding the words written in the letter. What a charming young man. He was direct and not so much refined, but he was still charming.

His smile became suddenly grimaced, seeing that the letter was a folded corner. He passed his hand over immediately to fix it. It has been his fault, he had bent it inadvertently underfoot: when he leave his room minutes before he had not seen it and until he heard the rustle of paper under his foot did not realize that someone had left a message for him at his door.

He smiled again at the thought of his guest sitting at the kitchen table, writing with his back bent over the paper. He noticed that his letter had a slight stroke, somewhat chaotic and neglected. However, he could guess by the imprint on the paper that the young man had endeavored to get a proper presentation and calligraphy― and also he knew how to be grateful. Gratitude was a sign of good upbringing and education. Definitely, Will Graham had just climbed a couple of points in his personal rank.

He returned the letter to the envelope and put it in a safe place in the top drawer of his dresser, under the socks. He looked at the clock over the furniture: missing a few hours for dinner.

His smile widened, as his brain was developing plans for that night. Until then he has had the intention of go downstairs in robe, as his guest was supposed to still be visiting the city at those hours and there wasn't a risk of being seen in his clothes for wearing around the house― but now that was not an option. No. That night they finally will come to know and he wanted to present a good appearance for his guest. It was the least he could do for someone who cared about pleasing him.

He directed his steps toward the bathroom, which was adjacent to the master bedroom, and left there half an hour later clean and neat. He then went to the dressing room to choose his outfit and, throughout the process, the smile never left his lips. In his mind, he kept going over the handwritten words of his guest: his innocence and humility, the honesty of their American manners.

Every minute that passed, he felt more eager to meet Will Graham.


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTE:** I must thank and apologize: thank for the existence of websites - and collaborators that support them, whose contribution and work are so valuable - like Louisiana Creole Dictionary and Louisiana Creole Grammar, who have helped me to compose Will's Creole speaking (the sacrifices one must make for certain headcanons :)  
Also, I must apologize because my knowledge of the Creole language of Louisiana is null and I do not know if what I have written is totally conform to reality. I tried to do my best with my limited resources and understanding of a language that is not mine, and for which I have great respect, like for any language or dialect spoken in the world. I apologize for any mess that my ignorance has caused. If anybody detect any mistake and feel obligue to correct me, go ahead, I'll accept that with all humility.

* * *

 **III**

Will maneuvered the presses, fretting because the leaves of the book was securely fastened to the deck and in the exact position. It was important that there were no failures, or otherwise all his previous work would go to hell.

That first copy had been easy. It was the simplest of all because it only required a change of cover. He had been able to complete his work, as planned, at lunchtime. And although he should have left the rest of the work for the next day, returning home after an invigorating walk through the city he could not resist visiting the library. Then he used to place the new cover to the book - which had acquired just one hour before in a bookseller shop from the city center - because doing so he saved a working day: the next morning he could devote his time to the second copy, whose condition was worse than his companion, and whose restoration he estimated would take him around a week's work.

He was looking forward to start his duty―

'May I get interested in your work, sir?'

Will's heart nearly stopped when he heard the voice. He literally jumped to his feet and let out a little scream. He stared wide-eyed at the man before him and watching him turn with a twinkle of amusement in his red-brown eyes.

'What the h―!? Who are y―!? How have you entered!?,' he asked, dumbfounded. He cannot believe the presence of the stranger there: both the library door and the windows were closed and could swear he had not heard him enter.

¡I used the window,' indicated his interlocutor with a gesture, 'I was on the terrace, enjoying the night breeze, when you have arrived. I did not want to bother but I was curious,' he took a step, showing a lovely smile, 'I apologize if I have scared you.'

'It's okay.' Will said, breathing calmer. He stared at the man for a moment, catching his superior height, his elegant light blue three-piece suit, his gentlemanly bearing and his brown hair. He had seen a picture of him in the hall, hung above the fireplace. 'Count Lecter, I guess.'

'Hannibal Lecter.' he held out his hand, which he shook containing a shudder. The night breeze had cooled it until almost turn to ice. 'Welcome to my home, Mr. Graham.'

'Thank you. I came here freely, by my own will, and I'll leave some of the happiness I carry with me.' count looked at him with raised eyebrows, surprised and fun at the same time. Will huffed to himself, realizing he had committed the stupidity, 'Sorry, it has been― it came into my head suddenly not mind me. It has been silly.

'On the contrary, I do not know many people who can quote Dracula. Do you fond of Stoker's work?' he asked, curious.

'I read the novel when I was a child.'

'I have a copy in my library, if you're interested.' he gestured to the shelves they had behind.

'Thank you. Maybe another time.'

'Tell me, what is your opinion about the novel?'

'Well, for me it was―', Will mulled it, 'Frightening. The Count really scared me. eEspecially in the castle when Harker sees him descend the wall―'

'A disturbing passage.'

'Definitely. However―,' he hesitated. The watchful eye of the count urged him to continue, 'At the end I could not help feeling sorry for him. He was cursed, the end of the day. Any glory or happiness he possessed in the past had vanished centuries ago. He was a solitary creature and ended up being hunted like an animal. Only death could bring him peace― despite all his wickedness, that made me incapable of hate him― not at all. I felt relieved for him.'

Hannibal broke into a smile.

'You possess the goodness of heart of Mrs. Harker.'

Will shrugged without answering.

'Do you eat, sir?'

'Sorry?' he looked at him, shocked.

'Dinner,' he explained, 'It is on the table. Why do you not meet Alana and I in the dining room?'

'Alana has already returned?'

'I'm sure: She is always like clockwork.'

'Okay.' he nodded and gave a distracted look at the book. 'Here I've finished.'

'Perfect. Follow me, please.'

Hannibal turned on his heels and with great packaging guided him through the double sliding doors that separated the library from the dining room. It took them only a few seconds to go from one room to another. As they crossed the threshold, Will could not help thinking that his host was both a refined and a strange man.

* * *

The dinner's atmosphere was so odd for her.

She was sitting to the right of Hannibal and in front of Will. The table that three of them were occupying had been elegantly decorated and dressed. On its surface exquisite delights of the Lithuanian cuisine were distributed: a soup made with potatoes, celery, bacon and cream; ham and egg kugales; and tinginys made with chocolate, condensed milk and cookies. All it seasoned with a few bottles of Krupnik, a typical Lithuanian liquor made from cereals and honey.

Hannibal had taken pains with food, as always. She was used to enjoy the culinary arts of his ex-boss, but for Will the new food seemed to be a discovery: his delight in the dishes was genuine. He showed interest in the recipes and repeatedly praised his host's cooking. Hannibal responded humbly to the blandishments of his guest, but he was unable to hide his smile and― she was not quite sure but― she'd swear was a slight blush on the man's cheeks that had nothing to do with the Krupnik, or with any optical illusion caused by the lamplight of the dining room.

For anyone who knew a little, the count's attitude would go unnoticed: Hannibal was a man of exquisite manners and, with a few exceptions, he always tried to be friendly with everyone, eEspecially with those who he chose to sit at his table. However, there was something in the way he acted around Will that made her suspect― actually, it carried her back:

There was a time when a young Alana Bloom, fresh out of college, decided to accept a job as personal assistant to a wealthy aristocrat in Lithuania. That young Alana arrived at this European country charged with luggage and illusions, speaking only her mother tongue. Currently she was fluent in English, French and Lithuanian, and had even learned the basics of Italian, Hannibal's favourite language.

Upon arrival she had met this charismatic, attractive man. He was younger than she expected and he had that fascinating pattern accent when speaking English, which was both intoxicating and fun. He made her feel like a lady all the time, something that was not very difficult when you catch all the attention of a true gentleman, and every one of his words, his smiles and his looks belong to you― just like now they seem to belong to Will.

'I understand you are from Louisiana,' said Hannibal at that moment, breaking the train of her thoughts and attracted again the attention of his guest.

'Yes.' he nodded, taking a sip from his liquor. 'My father and I settled there during my adolescence: we lived in Chartres Street.'

' _Oh, the Vieux Carré?_ ' he asked in an impeccable European French.

' _We_.' Will answered immediately, in a excited Creole. ' _Vou Konnen li_?'

' _Bien sûr. Je suis allée à la Nouvelle Orléans quelques années il ya_.'

They exchanged a warm smile: Will seemed happy to have found a trait affinity with his boss and Hannibal was clearly fascinated with the young man's Creole accent.

Alana's stomach contracted.

'You know that is impolite to speak in another language against a person who does not speak, right?' she said it half in jest, but it was enough to break the intimacy between them.

'Sorry, Alana.' Will looked away, realizing his fault.

'Don't worry. It doesn't matter.'

After that, they were silent for a while. The dinner took place in a more formal setting with short conversations about inconsequential matters until Will announced he was going to bed after the dessert: the next morning he wanted to get up early to start working on the restoration of the next book.

'In addition to nice, he is also a tireless worker.' valued Hannibal, satisfied, once the young man had left the dining room. 'I thank you for recommend him to me, Alana. It was a great idea to bring him here.'

'Definitely. I think you should let him finish his task before acapararle. Don't you think, Hannibal?'

'He will have plenty of time to finish his work. Time is the only thing that never fails in this world.'

The woman left her glass on the table, very serious.

'Enough.' she admonished him. He turned to look at her, uncomprehending. 'I cannot sit here while I see you coax out of bounds. One thing is you hiring Will and taking good advantage of him, which I will not blame you. But if you plan to go beyond with him―

'Excuse me.' Hannibal interrupted her without losing courtesy. 'I must have forgotten it: when I have given you the power to decide on my actions, Alana?' he held her gaze as she faced him.'It is not my desire that have any dissension among us. I would find it so unpleasant to have to remind you what is your position.'

'He is out of your reach.' she revolted, angry. She stood, while abruptly left the napkin on the table. 'That's all I'm going to say: Will Graham is out of your reach.'

She left the room, angry. She could feel Hannibal's eyes fixed on her back as she walked away. Anger emanating from him and prickled the hairs on her neck, as she was leaving the room.

She knew she has taken a dangerous risk saying her words. Hannibal was attracted by challenging, impossible things and had a habit of revolt when he felt defied. It had not been her intention to do battle, just she had to stop him.

What Hannibal intended to do with Will Graham, what she saw in his eyes he wanted to do― it was simply unacceptable.

* * *

*Here is the English translation of the conversation between Hannibal and Will during dinner:

H: Oh, the French Quarter?  
W: Yes. Do you know it?  
H: Of course. I was in New Orleans a few years ago.


	4. Chapter 4

**NOTE:** Today I must apologize to the Lithuanian - and its speakers – language. I have tried to put some phrases in Hannibal's mouth in their mother tongue and I hope I have committed no unpardonable errors. As always, I reiterate my respect for other languages and dialects, and if someone more knowledgeable than I feel the need to correct me for my failures in regard to the language, He/she will be welcome.

* * *

 **IV**

The night was warm.

Will slept uncovered, with the window open waiting for some charitable breeze come to smooth the room. He was in that sweet state between sleep and wakefulness: still conscious, but increasingly caught in the loving arms of Morpheus.

He did not know what time it was when he noticed that the temperature inside the bedroom down several degrees to become pleasant. A cool breeze began to go through the window, sliding to the bed to find the soles of his feet and slip through his fingers, tickling.

He felt the breeze up his legs and crept under his interior clothes, soft like a caress. It raised the hair on his navel and his nipples but not in an unpleasant way. It was not a cold, but desirable feeling. He surrendered to it, no matter if what he was experiencing was a dream or reality.

What did it matter? It was pleasant.

The breeze rose through his hands, arms and chest. It curled around his neck and freshened his ears, stopping on his cheeks and lightly ruffling his hair. It tore him a smile. No doubt he was in a dream, trapped in his room with a breeze that had its own life and ideas. It reveled in exploring him, like a child who played happily with his new toy.

Suddenly, he felt a strange weight that hung over him. Not crushed him. It was not corporeal, properly speaking, but it was there. He removed trying to shake it off but it was useless. He began to stir restlessly. That has stopped being a fun game: perhaps the breeze was not a blessing, but a danger―

' _Miego, norėjau Will. Tu saugi. Nebijokite, jums mėgautis savo miegu_.'

He heard the words in his head, not his ears. They calmed him down immediately, although he did not recognize the language and was unable to locate the voice that spoke them― but the voice reassured him. Suddenly he felt at peace. Nothing can hurt him.

Something warm started down his chest and the next moment he felt a slight pressure on his neck. It was sweet, plaintiff― as a lover's kiss. He gave to the feeling openly, knowing it was just a dream that perhaps was becoming wet. Whatever he was dressed, so there was not danger of damaging the sheets (otherwise it would fill him of shame). He could allow himself that loss of control.

He bit his bottom lip to not make too much noise. The feeling of being kissed, sucked, was too exciting and he feared wake someone up if he left out himself so much. It was a strange feeling: he felt his body heavy, languid and yet― he was aroused, with an almost painful erection that pressed relentlessly against the cotton fabric of his underpants, demanding attention.

He clenched his eyes tightly when the end came. He tried to be as quiet as he could but could not control the moans that came out of his throat in the middle of climax. Anyway, it did not matter: the pressure abandoned him, once its desire was sated. The weight he had felt before on his body disappeared and the feeling of cool breeze vanished into thin air, crossing him from head to toe for the last time in farewell.

He felt weak and confused. He did not open his eyes, though he tried― but had no strength enough. After that he fell into a deep sleep, with more strange words ringing in his head:

' _Mes vėl būtų saldus Will. Aš būsiu atgal už jus_.'

* * *

The next night, Alana and Hannibal were taking a drink in the living-room before dinner, when Will appeared.

The eyes of his hosts immediately fell upon him. Hannibal smiled while Alana dropped distracted the ice in the cup she was serving herself when she saw the state of his friend: Will was pale and his appearance was not good. He seemed slightly confused, as if he has just awakened to the world. He had a small red mark - a scratch, perhaps - on the left side of his neck.

Alana turned to glare at Hannibal a second before asking:

'Are you all right, Will?'

'I'm afraid not much.' he admitted with a sigh. 'I don't know what happened to me. I've slept all day.'

'Do you feel sick?' Hannibal asked, standing up to go to him while Alana presses her lips and give him an upset look across the room.

'I have a blunt head. I'm very tired. I think I have not yet overcome jet lag and so I overslept―.

'A walk will do you good.' he proposed.

'A walk, in his state?' Alana watched them both with a raised eyebrow. 'What he should do is eat something and go to sleep again. A peaceful sleep is restful.'

'No, no more sleep.' Will replied, shaking his head with a grimace.

'You heard him.' Hannibal said. He then turned back to his guest. 'You need to eat a little and do some exercise, it will reactivate your mind. Come with me, we buy a snack to take as we walk down the avenue, okay? It will work well.'

'If you say.' he shrugged, unable to argue.

Hannibal took Will's arm in a gesture of support. The young man felt better with the other at his side as they walked to leave the room.

Alana stepped forward.

'I'm not sure that's―

'We'll be back in time for dinner.' announced Hannibal, a second before disappearing with Will out the door.

The woman was left behind, unable to do anything about it.

* * *

Hannibal bought for Will a ration of Kepta duona - strips of black bread fried in oil and seasoned with garlic and delicious cheese topping - and a cold beer.

They walked together down the avenue, enjoying the cool night air as they shared the food. They had finished with it when they reached the cathedral, and from there they crossed the park to climb the Gediminas hill. Will had visited it the day before to have access to the tower-museum, which was one of the most famous attractions of Vilnius, appearing even in the local currency.

They used the cable car up to the top of the hill because the road was steep and uphill, plus difficult because of the cobblestones. Out of consideration for Will, Hannibal decided it was better not to make the climb on foot.

When they reached the top, they stayed silent while they admired the best views of the city. At the foot of Gediminas hill, Vilnius' lights glittered like a giant swarm of fireflies lighting up the night.

Will took a deep breath, letting the night air clear his head and filled his lungs.

'What do you think?' Hannibal asked, turning to face him.

'Even at night it continues to be impressive.' Will said admiringly.

'Have you feel better?'

'Yes, thank you.' he watched him with a half smile. 'The walk and food have sat me very well.'

'I'm glad to hear it.'

They turned to look at the lights of the city and stood next to each other without speaking for a while.

'Vilnius seems a very lively place.' Will said, noting the coming and going which could be seeing even at that distance.

'What it is.' nodded Hannibal. 'Especially at night. That's when I like the most.'

'Alana told me you was a night owl.'

'That's right.' he smiled. 'The night is my natural time. It has always been, since I can remember.'

'What do you have against the day?' he wanted to know, curious.

'Not against the day, against the sun.' Hannibal extended his hand and turned it to show his palm. Will came closer to look, intrigued by what the other wanted to show him. He discovered scars on the Count's hand and after inspecting them with great curiosity, looked at him puzzled because he could not decipher their origin. 'Porphyria.' said Hannibal. Will looked at him surprised. 'It's a blood disease. It is not contagious, but unfortunately it is hereditary. My case is very strange,' he withdrew his hand, 'Symptoms are reduced to a great photosensitivity. So I try not to have dealings with the sun. Otherwise, it's painful.'

'I am sorry.'

'It is nothing to be sorry about. Despite the limitations of my condition, I have a completely normal life. I am happy not seeing daylight. The night is my element.'

Will swallowed and lowered his head, remembering with shame what was the first conclusion he had pulled over his head the night Alana told him how much Hannibal liked the city nightlife.

'I thought your fondness for night was because you are a party animal. Excuse me, I didn't know―'

'It's okay.' he smiled, touched by his apology. 'Many have a bad opinion about me because I'm rich and I sleep all day. But I do not care what others think. In fact,' he added, 'I would not qualify myself as a reveler, but I must admit that I am a sybarite― an hedonist, if you prefer. I like everything that's good and fortunately I can afford it. My visits to the city clubs are part of those tastes.'

'Alana told me you like to visit the exclusive ones.'

'That's true.' he nodded. 'Between you and me, Will, I cannot stand those places where music is blaring, alcohol flows freely and lights give you a headache.'

'In other words, any normal club.' he frowned. 'I hate them too. I do not know how anyone could endure them. All that noise and people―'

'You would love Mákoš.'

'What?'

'Mákoš club. It's my favorite, I visit it frequently. One night you should come with me.'

'Thanks, but― I'm afraid I'm not made for exclusive clubs.'

'You would feel very comfortable in it: the music is good, the atmosphere is calm― they serve light snacks and, as elsewhere, do not have to drink alcohol if you do not want. You can choose.'

'You are very kind, Count, but in such a place they would not let me in.'

'Who was going to deny you the access?' his question sounded like a challenge. 'You would enter with me, Will. I am VIP customer, I could show up at the door with a beggar and they would let us pass.'

'Well,' he glanced at himself, valuing his faded jeans and the shirt he was wearing, which has lived in his closet for almost a decade, 'in my case, that scenario does not go far wrong―'

'Nonsense.' Hannibal smiled. 'Your clothes are perfectly decent. Although, if you want to expand your wardrobe or make it more elegant, do not hold back. The credit card Alana gave you is for that.'

'No, not for that.' he shook his head. 'I never occur to me, considering the way they charge for suits in the shops I've seen on the avenue.'

'They are good costumes, Will. They deserve each costing litas. If you want one, buy it. Moreover, buy all you want.'

'But―'

'I insist.' he ordered, his brown eyes staring at him. Will felt strangely subdued by that look, which had reddish tints. Suddenly, it became clear for him that no matter the price, he had to buy these clothes because it was what he wanted and his boss agreed. 'Tell the owner that you going for me: he will give you his best and for a good price.' he smiled and turned act followed sight, breaking the influence of his look. 'Now let's go home, my dear Will. We mustn't keep Alana waiting.'

'Whatever you wish.'

They started the descent on foot, unhurriedly. The young man still felt a bit odd after what happened. He got the strange feeling that he was not entirely master of himself.

'When will you finish working on the new book?' Hannibal asked, after a moment.

'A week or less.'

'When you finished it, we could go Mákoš. You work a lot, it's time that your efforts are rewarded. Do you agree?'

Will nodded. In those moments, whatever his boss said it was okay for him. Hannibal smiled, for no apparent reason, and as he had done moments earlier in the attic, took Will's arm.

They walked together back home.

* * *

*And, as always, here the translation (approximate) to English of the phrases in Lithuanian:

H: Sleep, dear Will. You are safe. Do not be afraid, enjoy your dream.

H: We will meet again, sweet Will. I will come back for you.


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

 _Dear Will:_

 _I hope you have a nice day. The conversation we had at dinner last night was downright uplifting. I really enjoy your stories about the visits you made to my city. They are allowing me see it with new eyes and that's something that, I must confess, I am very grateful― it has been a long time since I have enjoyed so pleasant and interesting company._

 _If I may, I would like to take the liberty to recommend you a leisure activity that few European capitals can offer, and that I hope will be to your liking. I have understood you has not enjoyed it yet: Have you ever thought about flying over Vilnius in a balloon, Will? If you are not scared of heights, I'm sure it must be such an experience. You might want to take it into account. Maybe you decide to enjoy it and then you can liven up our dinner with your story. We would be delighted to hear it._

 _I do not wish to extend this letter too much. So I must say goodbye, wishing you a great day again. See you at nightfall._

 _Yours, faithfully:_

 _HL_

 _PS: Yesterday I had in my hands the copy of the Elements by Euclid which you restored recently. It looks new. I am pleasantly pleased with your work, Will, you give new life to my beloved books. I must confess that it has aroused my curiosity for your work. I wish our life cycles were not opposed because I would like to - whenever you would not mind, of course, I would not want you feel pressured - be present and observe the process. It's something I would love to do._

* * *

 _Dear Hannibal:_

 _My day is being quiet and pleasant. I trust that your night will be too._

 _A balloon ride? I had not thought of. It would be a different way to see the city. I will seek information about it, because I think it's a very interesting activity. I'm not afraid of heights, and at most take up biodramina, just in case of dizziness._

 _Glad you are happy with my work. As I said a few days ago, I'm just an amateur restorer, not a professional. I also love books, so I try to restore them when it's necessary._

 _In relation to our cycles: I think we could adapt them to satisfy your curiosity. Perhaps you could give me a hand in the restoration of the Treaty of Light by Hayghens. You could be my spotter and assistant. Get me your answer and, if you like, we will reach an agreement._

 _I must say goodbye now. Work is claiming for me. I wish you have a nice night, Count._

 _Yours, sincerely:_

 _WG_

 _PS: I'm glad you enjoy the stories of my experiences as a tourist in Vilnius. I hope I don't bore you with my speeches: surely you know the city very well and I'm sure there is no need for my to describe it to you. But as you said, my view of it comes from another eyes. That makes it different, I guess._

* * *

They agreed to meet at the library the next night, after dinner.

Hannibal counted the hours of the day, looking forward the time came. Will was increasingly ingratiated himself with the idea of show his work process to the Count, because the aristocrat seemed to be so interested in it.

During dinner, as had become usual, a pleasant conversation among the guests was established. Alana was not involved much in it and after consumed the dessert, she decided to end the night at a club in town. Will and Hannibal then retired to the library, and while the young American provided its tools in a neat row on the table, beside the book that he was going to work, the Lithuanian Count stood at his side and watched every detail of the process.

Will put on latex gloves before start. It was important to preserve the pages of fat or dirt that could be transmit by the fingers, even unwittingly. Hannibal watched his guest choose a page and use a soft eraser for rub delicately the surface of it, while holding the blade at one end with the other hand.

'This will help to clean it.' he explained. 'The ancient copies or the books which has remain stored a long time tend to accumulate dirt and dust between its pages. Sometimes it is not visible, but it's there. Luckily, that last pages are not as damaged as the others: moisture has attacked them but it is not serious.

'I wish I have taken better care of him.' Count lamented, grimacing. 'It is one of my favorite copies. I try my library was in the best conditions―'

'It's not your fault.' Will comforted him. 'Books age. Some do better than others. You cannot control all variants, however much you try.

Hannibal nodded, accepting his words. His eyes then focused on Will, appreciating the care the young man put on his work, sliding the draft through the pages as he these were to break. His movements had the precision of a surgeon and the affection of a lover.

'Have you ever thought about becoming a professional? Any library or museum would benefit greatly from your services, Will.'

'I have thought about it.' he nodded, frowning in concentration at work. 'but the most I can afford are some courses and workshops. It is out of my reach go to university to train as a restaurateur.'

'I understand. What is your job in America?' Hannibal asked curiously, after a few minutes.

'I'm a concierge. I work for my friend, Jack Crawford: he and his wife, Bella, have a hotel in Toulouse Street in New Orleans. It is a historic building. It is very well preserved but requires maintenance.'

'So is the book restoration your hobby then, your passion?'

'That's what I like to do, besides fishing.' he smiled. He set the eraser aside and use a soft hair brush to remove the remaining erased. 'Profits help me pay the bills, which is fortunate because I stay at the hotel: Bella and Jack make me a special price for my room, but I still have to pay the rent.

'Do they require rental to a friend?'

'On the contrary, they wanted to charge me not. I demanded it, and I know Bella is still mad at me for that. But I do not like to live on the charity of others, even if they are my friends.'

'You are proud.' valued Hannibal, with a smile.

'For better and for worse. Although, I can not complain: Bella even let me have a dog, despite she is allergic.'

'Do you have a dog?'

'Yes.' in his face appeared a bright, lovely smile. 'His name is Buster, he is the Devil's seed. He is a half-breed Jack Russell.'

'It is said they are a stubborn breed.'

'Oh, yes.' he nodded, showing that he spoke from experience. 'But they are also excellent hunters of rodents, which never hurts in a hotel.'

'And where has you left Buster? You did not bring him with you.'

'The plane ride was too long, he would not have standed it.' he grimaced. 'I left him at the shelter, with his brothers.'

'Brothers?'

Will looked up and saw the look of curiosity in the count eyes.

'I have adopted some dogs from a local shelter.' he said. 'I can not have them at home, but I take care of their maintenance and the money helps the shelter to function properly.'

'So you're a sort of benefactor of the institution.'

'Something like that.'

'How many dogs has you adopted exactly?'

It took the young man a few seconds to answer. He seemed ashamed in some way for whatever the other man could think about him:

'Seven.' he finally said.

'Seven.' Hannibal hinted a smile that was a mixture of amusement, approval and surprise. 'Are you the golden ticket of canine adopters.'

Will laughed at the joke. The Count watched without losing his smile, he even extended it.

'I do what I can.' the young man said. Then, his face seemed bright with illusion. 'Someday, I'll buy a large lot and we'll live together. I will build a house for all of us.'

'Is that your dream, Will?'

'It can be called that way.' he nodded. After a moment, he added. 'We should get back to work: these pages are not going to clean themselves.'

Said and done: the young man returned to the cleansing of the book's pages and Hannibal, at his side, leaned slightly to inspect and learn from his work.

'Fascinating.' he said admiringly.

'Only a few pages to do. Tomorrow I'll be finished with this copy and I will be able to start with the next.'

'You are restless.'

'I like the job― and I have the bad habit of committing when I really like something.

'I'm sure of that.' he smiled. 'I am very grateful that you took the trouble to change your sleep cycle for me, Will. It is a detail that I appreciate.'

'I guess I'm a little bit egocentric.' he rose up at him for a moment. 'Your interest flatters my ego.'

'Your ego has reasons to feel flattered. You are a talented restorer, Will. Even I can see that and I have no knowledge about restoration.'

'I've only taken a few courses, nothing more.'

'Knowledge is useless if there is no talent.'

'That's not true. And please, stop complimenting me before I turn into an arrogant monster.'

'You hardly could be arrogant, Will. On the contrary, you are too humble: you understimate your own skills.'

'I don't give them more credit than they deserve, simply.'

'For me, all your qualities are remarkable.'

Will smiled. He looked down, and Hannibal could see just a slight blush on his cheeks. He was pleased by the effect of his words on the young man, but he could not help but think with sadness that Will was unable to appreciate his own worth. He did not see how extraordinary he was.


	6. Chapter 6

**NOTE:** I want to thank all the readers who have spend their time with this fic: reading it, bookmarking it or giving it reviews and/or kudos... I'm so glad the story was entertain you and It had being so well recieved.  
Meanwhile, I must aware you the fic is being writing in Spanish and then being translating into English, so it's possible it takes some time to actualice it (I'm going to post the new chapters in both languages on the same day, so all the readers can enjoy it at the same time). Also, I must make an hiatus starting on this Monday due to personal obligations. I'll try this hiatus doesn't take more than a week.  
Having said that, please enjoy this new chapter and forgive all the possible grammar mistakes. I have translated this all by myself (I haven't got a betareader), I hope I haven't committed so many errors.

* * *

 **VI**

The club Mákoš was located in the Old Town, a few streets away from the city center. Occupying two floors of a neoclassical building, It was one of the most popular and best rated clubs in Vilnius.

Hannibal, Will and Alana - who had decided to join them at the last moment - crossed the threshold dressed according to the etiquette: the woman was stunning in a midnight blue tube dress that fit like a glove to her figure; the Count, meanwhile, had opted for a classic black suit without a tie; and the young American man was wearing his new gray suit, combined with a dark blue shirt which highlighted the color of his eyes and his brown beard and hair. Looking like that, the man made many heads turn at the club. Perhaps for that reason Hannibal did not depart from his side, as he led the group surrounding the dance floor to the stairs.

Will walked looking around admiringly. He had never set foot in a luxury club in his whole life and The Mákoš drew his attention. It was just as Hannibal had described to him: lighting inside was soft, not kaleidoscopic, and music remained within healthy levels of noise. The ground floor was decorated in dark tones, the bar was located at the bottom and the cloakroom near to the entrance. The lights, furniture and music were modernist. As they passed, he could see to the right a gallery of wooden arches that gave access to the reserved area, while the rest of the tables were distributed to the left.

At that time the club was busy but not too much. They were going upstairs to the private reserved VIP area when they saw a young redhead woman, dressed in a stylish green robe, closing up to them. The girl smiled and waved at them to say hello.

'Margot!' Alana stepped forward with a smile to greet her. 'What are you doing here?'

'Hi.' they saluted with a kiss. 'I've come to entertain myself. What about you?'

'I'm with friends.' she linked arms with the young red, in a gesture that show the confidence between them, and turned to the men to make presentations. 'Margot Verger, these are Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham,' pointed them out by hand respectively, 'Will has come on holliday from the United States.'

'Oh, really!?' Margot looked at the man, pleasantly surprised. 'Are you American? What part of USA are you from?'

'Louisiana.'

'I'm from Maryland.'

'What are you doing in Lithuania?' he asked, curious.

'I'm handling a branch of my family's business in Europe: Verger Industries, maybe you know us. I'm in charge of our new line of vegetarian products.'

'Wait, Verger: the giant of meat?' She nodded. He frowned. 'Do you switch over to the vegetarian side?'

'After many years, I finally managed to convince my brother.' she boasted.

'Margot, why do not you join us in our reserved?' proposed Alana. 'You don't mind, do you, Hannibal?

'Of course not.' the Count gave her a polite smile. 'You are welcome to our _petit commité_ , Miss Verger.'

'Thank you.'

'May we go up?'

They came upstairs, Will following Hannibal and the two women chatting to the rear. They reached the entrance to the VIP area, where an employee received them and said good night to them as he let them pass: the first room they found was a small hall, with a carpeted floor and the walls decorated with wood panels. The toilets was on the right side and just in front there was another cloakroom. The group passed over both and crossed the threshold that led to a hallway where several doors opened, one for each reserved.

They went through the second door on the left. Will was dumbfounded at the moment he put his feet in the room: mini-bar, large plasma TV, stereo, billiards— even a buffet table stocked with fruit, mineral water, natural juices, sandwiches and nuts. At the bottom there was a door with a small gold plate on it which led to a toilet, and closer was the reserved itself: a round wood table surrounded by a sectional sofa in brown leather. On the table there was a vase with fresh flowers and a set of scented candles. All this, combined with the soft lighting and the elegant decoration of the room, made of it the perfect place to relax on a Friday night. The room around them was a compendium of good taste, comfort and sophistication.

'Stunning'. Will muttered, admiringly.

'Do you like it?'

The young man turned to look at Hannibal, as if he had just asking what color was the sun.

'Excuse me, but that's a silly question.'

The frank honesty of his answer made the Count laugh.

'Hannibal is a good customer of Mákoš.' said Alana. 'why his reserved is one of the best.'

'Do you fancy a drink?' asked the Count, after a moment. 'Please, take a seat. I'll mix the drinks. You are quite free to eat whatever you want from the buffet.'

Hannibal walked toward the mini-bar and returned minutes later, having set up the stereo in order to the Goldberg Variations could be heard in the room. In his hands he brought a small tray with the first round of well-prepared drinks, which he left in the center of the table for his guests.

Once they were all gathered - Will sitting to the left of Hannibal and Alana and Margot occupying the seats in front of them - they enlivened the evening with different conversations and trimmed it with a generous dose of alcohol. The atmosphere among the four was relaxed throughout all night and towards the end of the meeting, Hannibal decided that they should close it with a special nightcup.

He got up to bring to the table a new tray, this time with a wide, square bottle which content was emerald green. There was also four cups of curious aspect: wide at the top and with a small bulge near the base, a long perforated metal spoon which resembled a strange sort of strainer and a small bowl filled with sugar cubes.

'Absinthe.' Will said, looking surprised the bottle label. 'I thought it was forbidden. Is it not a drug or something?'

'Only if you take it pure or in excess and solely for recreational use.' Hannibal said, with a smile. 'Absinthe is legal in Europe, except in France, where it cannot be produced but imported. Would you like to try?' he tempted him, as he placed the spoon on his cup and took between his fingers a lump of sugar. Will watched him for a few seconds and finally nodded, decided. Hannibal smiled and let the clod fondly on the spoon, before applying to it the flame of his elegant lighter for burn it and proceed to add the water.

Once they were served, they drank from their cups with caution, sip by sip. The sugar and water used to lower the absinthe have turned it into a creamy white substance, without making it lose that bitter aftertaste that was so characteristic. They took a couple of rounds and before the second had finished, Will began to look frowned at Margot Verger.

'Are you okay?' he ask. She had a pale face, beyond her natural whiteness, and the look in hir blue eyes seemed lost. She looked like someone who was about to throw up.

'I think I've drunk too much.' the redhead apologized. 'I don't do well on alcohol in large quantities. I feel a little queasy—'

'Do you want me to accompany you to the bathroom?' Alana offered, worried.

'No, I think I'd better go home. I will pick up my bag from the cloakroom and ask for a taxi—'

'I'm coming with you.' she helped her up and both said goodbye to the men before disappearing through the door.

Hannibal leaned back in his seat, the corners of his lips slightly arched upward, leaving his empty cup forgotten on the table. Will also leaned back and closed his eyes with a sigh when his head found the back of the sofa.

'Do you feel good, Will?'

'I'm fine. Too much fine, I think.'

'Please, explain yourself.'

The young man turned his head to look at his boss and when he opened his eyes he found Hannibal watching him with interest.

'My head is clear and I cannot think.' Will said. 'I own myself while I am not. I'm not very sure how to explain it.'

'I think you explain it perfectly.'

'It is absinthe's fault.' he sighed.

'And the four whiskeys you have consume in advance has nothing to do with?'

Will laughed, shaking his head.

'No. A few whiskeys do anything to me. My alcohol tolerance is surprisingly high: paternal inheritance, I suppose.'

'Your father was a drinker?'

'I think the correct word is _alcoholic_ , Count.'

'Hannibal.'

'What?'

'You can call me Hannibal. Do not you think we should be on first name terms by now? We're not so outdated, right?'

'Right. You're absolutely right, Hannibal. It's about time: we have lived under the same roof for over a week, we have shared our food, we have restored a book together.' he stared at him for several seconds and smiled, a warm and sincere gesture. 'I like to be with you.'

'So do I. I enjoy every second we spend together, Will. You're the perfect company for me: intelligent, honest and with a particular sense of humor. You are a rare bird, unique and extraordinary.'

'And you do not stop flatter me.' he warned jokingly. 'What I told you about make me so many compliments?'

'You'll have to excuse me, but just say what I think. And I think that's the truth, even if you don't want to see it.'

'You're so peculiar man.' he looked at him and the Count was suddenly caught in those huge, beautiful blue eyes. 'There's something in you that I can not decipher. I had never known anyone so special, with so much passion for life. You're not like any man, Hannibal Lecter.'

The Count smiled, happy to the point of not having words. That confirmed what he had known for long: Will and he was one for the other. He had intuited it since his first nocturnal visit, even more, since the first time he laid eyes on the young man, eager to meet the author of the letter. The days they had spent together did nothing but confirm this. They had already recognized what they thought about each other— for everything else, it was only a matter of time.

Hannibal reached out his hand and stroked Will's cheek tenderly with two fingers. The young man closed his eyes and left him do, even turning his head to make the contact closer. He was surrendering voluntarily, abandoning any defense and exposing to him that slender, white neck—

Longing awoke inside the Count, with a force that he had rarely known. He couldn't remember have ever felt so great need: a stab of hunger, voracious, implacable. It transcended his vampire instincts. It is no longer about trying to feed himself, but succumbing to the temptation that the young man provided, the same young man whose blood he wanted as much as his body or his soul.

Hannibal's hand slid to reach the boy's hair, those chocolate curls he love so much. He curled his fingers around them and gently flicked his wrist to put Will in the correct position. And the young man did nothing at all to prevent it.

The Count noticed the precise moment when the change occurred: when his fangs emerged, white and sharp, and his vision turned red. When the beast who he shared body and nature with hanged over Will and put its eager lips on his neck, ready to take the best from the man. For more than a week Hannibal had been holding that beast, since the first night he visited Willin his bed. He have been trying not to interfere with the work of his employee and have waited patiently for the moment he could have him alone in the club. That moment had finally arrived. It was time that all parties envolved enjoyed the rewards of their efforts.

He bit Will's neck, just tearing the skin with his teeth to draw blood. The boy received his gesture with a start and a muffled groan, a celestial sound which caught fire in the blood of the Count and made him - for the first time in centuries - feel his own heart again, beating like a drum.

Will, meanwhile, was aroused. Lost in the midst of pleasure and pain which mingled and confused him, he could feel his erection pressing against the fabric of his expensive suit. He was as aware of it as the fact of having to Hannibal over him, attached to his throat as if his life depended on it: the Count had sharp teeth that bite him and gentle lips that suck frantically, in addition to a wet tongue which appeared instantly to finish the job, alleviating the pain and increasing the ecstasy until it was almost unbearable. He did not know if he was dreaming or hallucinating, a cause of the absinthe, no doubth. That couldn't be real— but whatever it was or was not he was enjoying it, so he left go himself. Anyway he could not do anything about it: his body felt languid, weak. His will had given up a long time ago, lost between the strong arms of his companion.

When Hannibal finally stired from him, Will was about to lose consciousness. His vision had become blurred: he thought he had seen the Count with blood-stained lips and he thought it must be his— blood suctioned directly from his neck. But that was nonsense. He shook his head, denying himself the vision of Hannibal gloating to remove all traces of blood from his mouth, just like an animal. When the Count turned to look at him his eyes were red, but not the usual red— the kind of red that could only belong to a beast and never to a normal man.

Hannibal leaned over him, eyes closed, and rested his forehead against his. He stroked his face and hair in a gesture full of devotion and tenderness.

'Sweet Will,' was the last thing he heard, uttered in a passionate tone, a second before he lose his sense, 'My dear, precious Will— my beloved.'

The young man closed his eyes and the world around him faded.

* * *

'May I disturb you?'

Will looked up from the desk and saw Alana on the other side, smiling. In light of the lamps from the library, the woman's hair took on a nice bluish tint.

'Of course. 'he said, smiling back. He was wiping a scalpel with a cloth at that moment. 'I am preparing the tools. Hannibal has not gone down yet.'

'Sure he doesn't take long, he must be sleeping.' her blue gaze swept the desk surface, interested. 'What about the order? It seems that it moves quickly.'

'Oh yeah. Hannibal helps me a lot: we have divided the work and in a few days we're done. Much sooner than I expected.'

'I'm glad.' she smiled. 'It seems like Hannibal is fond of restoration.'

'Yes. And he is good at it. He has learned very quickly. He could turn it into his profession, if he wanted.'

'I'm sure. But then he wouldn't enjoy your servicies and I know it'd made him sad. He's grown quite attached to you, Will.'

'We've hit it off well.' he nodded with a smile.

'More than well, I'd say. Since you came here I haven't seen you both separated.' she shook his head, laughing. 'When Hannibal gets excited about something—'

'Well, he puts a lot of passion in everything he likes.' recognized the boy, with a hint of admiration in his voice. 'He is very enthusiastic.'

'I can verify that. He's just like that.' she shrugged. 'He loves all which is different, unusual. He's always looking for something new: sometimes it's an object, sometimes it's a new knowledge or a new person— in these five years, I have seen him treasuring many objects and knowledge. Also he has got many men and women in his life. Including me.'

'You?' Will looked at her, surprised. 'Hannibal and you—?'

'It happens when I first arrived here and only lasted a year: I was young and he was attractive and charismatic— you know how it is. We broke up on good terms. I have fond memories of that time.' she moved around the desk, her attention catched by a rectangular box that rested on one of the corners of the table. It was made of wood and had the effigy of a dog carved in relief. She watched it with intrigue. 'What is this, anyway?'

'It's a fishing tackle box. I found at my door this morning.'

'A present from Hannibal, right?' she gave him a meaningful look. ' You see? This is another of his hobbies: gifts. He is a born detailed. When he wanted to conquer me, he bought me jewelry and dresses and every week I found at my door a bouquet of lilies, my favorites. He continued to do so until we broke up. Actually, I was a little bit ashamed because, you know, a mature man giving all these presents to a twentysomething. People would believe he was my Sugar Daddy. But over time I realized that this was part of his nature: when Hannibal is interested in someone, he learn his tastes meticulously for wining and dining him. That's his way to show affection and, of course, he finds it very amusing. His heart is fond of affairs.'

Will stared at her in silence. He frowned.

'Why are you saying those things to me? What this is all about, Alana?'

The woman blinked and put the box aside.

'I'm sure you must have realised: the gifts, Hannibal's strong interest in you, the hours he spends at your side—'

'What do you mean?'

'Will, Hanibal is courting you. Hadn't you notice? He's smitten with you.'

'What do you say!? That's not true.' he refused, surprised as well as upset. 'No, you're— you're confused, Alana. Among Hannibal and I there is nothing. We are just friends. Good friends.'

'Do you mean he hasn't said you anything? He did not even tried to convince you to stay, after the order was finished?'

'I cannot stay here. I must go back to Louisiana. There I have my home and my job. And Jack and Bella need me.'

'I understand. But Hannibal, he not— well.' she sighed, clucking. 'Of course, silly me, he will not going to tell you so bluntly. First, he wanted to know if he can have a chance with you. He is going to court you until he was sure and then he'll invite you to a special place, a place where you both could be alone. In that moment he is going to tell you everything. Believe me, I speak from experience.'

'Your experience will not be mine.' said the boy. 'I can assure you that Hannibal has no romantic intentions with me. I understand that someone might be confused about it, because sometimes he is a bit effusive in his affections—'

'Yes, of course, it must be that.' Will looked at her seriously, perhaps trying to figure out if she was making fun. Cleverly, the woman returned the same stony expression that was reflected in his face. 'Finally, if you'll excuse me,' she walked to the nearest shelf and picked up a book, 'I just came for my monthly reading and to see if everything was in order.'

'It is.'

'I see.' she waved the book in farewell. 'Goodbye, Will.'

He waved as he continued cleaning the scalpel.

Alana had barely reached the door, when the man called her again:

'I was wondering— Hannibal told me you'd be busy with your work this week but—'

'What? Tell me, I hear you.'

'You see, we are going to go camping at Lecter's lands: Hannibal wants to show me the ancient castle of his family and— I was thinking that maybe you'd want to join us. If you're not so busy, of course.

'Of course.' she smiled. 'I've seen the castle yet, but it will be a pleasure to visit it again. It is a beautiful area, with a good river for fishing.'

'Yes, I know. Hannibal told me. I gess he bought the tackle box for that reason.'

'Trying to tempt you with fishing, huh? What a cunning boy he is.'

Will just smiled a smile. They parted again, with the promise that Alana would go camping with them. The woman left the library with the book under her arm, hiding a smile of triumph.

She had served her purpose. Her plan was underway: she knew Hannibal would stand his ground, but Will was much more reasonable— and he was not interested in men, as his boss. That gave them an advantage. Her friend wouldn't succumb to Hannibal's charms and attentions, simply because he has not interest in him. Once he was warn about the Count's intentions with him, obviously he would act wisely and would make the things clear once and for all with Hannibal.

That stuborn aristocrat must be stopped and Will seemed to be the only one with the power to do so.


	7. Chapter 7

**NOTE: ** I'm back :)! Thank you all for your patience. I wish you'll enjoy this new chapter, it seems it's a bumpy ride ;)

* * *

 **VII**

Something was wrong. Nothing was going as he had planned.

For a start, Alana had joined to them to go camping: Will had invited her, in his own words because he thought she would like to come. And, of course, the woman had taken time to accompany them. Even when he had struggled to pick a date he knew she couldn't go with them. But Alana was intelligent and had managed to decieve him.

She wanted to separate them. From the beginning she had made it clear she didn't approve his intentions with Will. Why? Was it because of the friendship that bound her to the boy? Was she interested in him and wanted him all to herself? Or perhaps she was still harboring old feelings for him? The latter seemed less likely, though occasionally doubt assailed him: he still wondered why Alana was still living with him in the attic, when she has resources more than enough to be independent and the relationship between them was increasingly detached. In addition, they both knew that things were getting serious between her and Margot Verger, which meant that sooner or later she would have to move. But the woman still maintained she had become accustomed to living together and not feel the need to leave the house.

 _Meanwhile_ \- Hannibal thought, squeezing his lips in disgust – _she strives to prevent Will and I get too close_.

She had tried to sabotage their date at Mákoš, using the same ploy of join them as a chaperone to avoid they could be alone. However, he had outsmarted her and had managed to turn the tables. Poor Miss Verger had to carry the can, but no matter: his little ruse with absinthe had worked and nobody had left really hurt. Besides, he had managed to strengthen its link with Will—

A smile came to his lips when he thought back on it. He could feel the beating of his heart every time he thought about the privacy of those reserved, the body of his beloved lying languid in his arms, the bittersweet taste of his blood and the words and dedication with which the boy had rewarded him.

He couldn't have any doubt. Will was more than ready and willing to be his companion. Not only he didn't put obstacles to his seduction, but gave it willingly, openly and without restraint, making it clear what his position was on the matter. The first night, he had approached him moved by hunger and curiosity. He sported crossing him, playing with him. The beauty of his Apollonian body captivated him, fell surrendered to him as Pygmalion in front of his Galatea, or as Zeus the first he laid eyes on Ganymede— since then he had worshiped and searched him with the same passion. He had put all his efforts to conquer him and his progress had always been rewarded. With each passing day he felt more united to Will Graham, and after what happened in Makos he was sure he was walking on the right path, that and only detracted take the final step to strengthen his relationship with Will—

But suddenly, everything had changed. The attitude of the young man toward him was disrupted from one day to another: it was no longer friendly and relaxed, but distant and elusive. He avoided him. He had even returned to their routine work in the morning, knowing that he could not accompany him. And when asked about such a sudden change, he only got a poor excuse from the man: the last pages of the book were in very poor condition and required many hours of work, so Will had decided to deal with them alone in order to not disturb him.

He had left it be because everything was too rare and Will was closed in band, every time he tried to pump him for information. He thought it best to give him some time. He could try again when they were camped in the castle. They would be alone all weekend— or so he thought.

Now, sitting alone in his tent as he smoked a cigarette, he could not take his mind an ominous idea: Would be Alana the cause of Will's strange behavior? What had made his pupil? Had she told the truth to him? Had she turned Will against him?

He shivered, but not due to the effect of his thoughts but because he felt dawn breaks in his bones. It was an hour before the sun appears and he was determined to use his time well: his ears were ready to capture the moment Alana retired to sleep and Will get up to start the day. He knew the boy wanted to go to the river to fish for the second straight day. He had spent most of the weekend on the river and only had stepped the camp to sleep, basically. Since they pitched their tents in the courtyard of the castle, Will had avoided maintain any contact with him, except when he could not help it. For example at dinnertime, when the three gathered around the fire to eat and tried to maintain a civilized conversation. He said well, _tried_ , because in such cases Alana was not a great conversationalist and Will seemed to have become dumb.

That situation was untenable. He will not tolerate it a second longer.

At last, he heard the zipper closed a sleeping bag in the right tent, where Alana slept. And on the left, Will's tent, it began to hear the bustle of someone to get up.

He stubbed out his cigarette against the stone surface of the ground and stood, leaving his tent as an exhalation.

* * *

He was drying his face in the mirror, when he noticed that something or someone coming into his tent.

It was like a gust of wind. Made him turn around in surprised and discovered Hannibal standing in front of him. The Count looked at him with a frown, as if he wanted to say a word and suddenly could not. His reddish-brown eyes rested on his chest, making him aware he was wearing only pajama bottoms and had not even had time to shave that morning. He felt the sudden urge to cover himself, but instead took courage to leave the towel aside and calmly face his visitor.

'What do you want?'

Hannibal's brow furrowed even more, with the formality of his tone.

'I thought we decided to put aside the formalities between us.' his tone was slightly injured. Will sighed.

'Sorry, but I hurry. I want to be on the lake when the sun comes up—.'

'We need to talk.' he interrupted, stepping toward him.

'Talk about what?'

'I've noticed, Will, your attitude toward me has changed these days: you're avoiding me.'

'No, I—.'

'Do not deny it. It is evident from a time now you no longer want to have anything to do with me. And I want to know why. Because I do not deserve such treatment from you. Have I done something to offend you?'

'Hannibal—.'

'I demand you an explanation of your behavior, right now.'

He looked at him sternly and Will felt intimidated. And violated. And guilty. Although he did not like Hannibal's attitude, he realized that the other man had every right to claim, as it was true he had been avoiding him - directly rejecting him – for days, without giving the slightest explanation. All from one day to another. It was quite normal for now Hannibal demanded some kind of explanation.

He sighed, knowing trapped. He could no longer hiding his head under his wing. Better clarify things immediately.

'Alana told me about your feelings for me. And the truth is— I came here to work, not to be your Summer amusement, okay?'

The Count looked at him with an expression that sailed between surprise and offense.

'Amusement? Is that what she told you that I want to make you my amusement?'

'She told me that you always went for something new. Your heart is always ready for an adventure. But I'm not an adventure, Hannibal, let's be clear. If you wanted me in your bed, you should have told me from the beginning and not make such a performance—.'

'It was not a performance! I have never pretended with you, Will. Is offensive you think about me like this. Also, how you intended I speak of my feelings out of the blue? First, I had to make sure that you returned my feelings.'

'And what made you think I do? I behaved with you as I'd do with any other friend. If my attitude made you think something more, I'm sorry—.'

'Will, your attitude was more than clear in Mákoš.'

The young man looked at him blankly. At the time, his face darkened.

'What happened in Mákoš? I do not remember anything.'

'No, because of the absinthe. But the things you said to me and how you return my actions— it's clear. And it was obvious that you were being honest, so I thought—.'

'How far we—?' He asked, his voice tight while he look at him suspicious.

'Not as far as you're thinking.' Hannibal looked pained. 'Do you really think I would be able to take advantage of you, in such a state?.' Will not want to believe it. And he did not answer. Hannibal huffed in frustration. 'All this is Alana's fault. You should not believe in anything she have told you. She does not want us to be together. I'm sure she told you all that things to turn you against me, to separate us.'

'Alana's my friend. If she do not want I'll be with you it is because she thinks it would not be good for me. She'll be trying to protect me.'

'You do not need to be protected from me. My intentions are honest. Why do you think I brought you here? Not only because I wanted to sleep with you, but because I wanted to confess my feelings to you. And I wanted you to meet the home of my ancestors, because it is a very important place for me: here I was going to ask you to stay with me and we both an opportunity—.'

'I cannot stay. I must return to Louisiana: my place is there, not in Lithuania.'

The Count stared at him for a long moment, saying nothing— but his face said it all.

'Is that your last word?'

'Sorry, Hannibal. I do not think a relationship between you and me, eventually come out well. Sorry if I've hurt you, I did not want to cause this situation,' he apologized. His interlocutor was looking at him in silence, with stony face. The young man sighed. 'I'd better go: the town is less than an hour away, I could take the first bus to Vilnius and then finish my work. And as the book was ended, I will return to the United States.'

'You don't need to go—.'

'I have to do it. And you should return to your tent: the sun is rising.'

He turned on his heels and walked to the back of the tent, where a small room separated by a curtain made of bedroom. The Count could see him move from here to there, gathering his things and putting some clothes on. The boy left after a moment, dressed in fishing pants, sandals and a shirt, and carrying a large backpack on his shoulders.

He passed surrounding him and Hannibal was unable to contain. He could not bear to see him go.

'Will, please— Will.'

He stopped at the entrance of the tent, just for a moment. He turned his head to look at him.

'Goodbye, Hannibal.'

And he left. In a second he had disappeared from his sight. The Count walked swiftly out of the tent to stop his escape, but he had to retreat because of the light of day. The sun was out and forced him to stay inside the tent, under penalty of death by fire. If he wanted to go out of there, he would have to wait for nightfall.

From his throat came a desperate snarl. His whole being revolted against that cruel imposition of his nature. He wanted to go out and run after Will, but knew it would not help anything. How could he stop the young man, to keep him at his side, if he became a handful of ashes on the pavement?

He only could stand there, looking as the man he loved go away from him for good.

* * *

With nightfall, Alana was gathering his things before they lift the camp to leave, when Hannibal appeared in the doorway of his tent.

A chill ran down her spine, warning her. She lift her head up from his backpack and then knew why: the Count's eyes looked at her bloodshot. His face was contorted with anger, his high cheekbones sharper than ever and his lips twitching like a beast ready to attack.

'You've betrayed me.' he accused her, in a tone that was as cold as relentless.

Alana knew it was time. Sooner or later it had to happen.

Hannibal walked into the tent and instantly her things started flying and crashed into the flimsy walls of the tent. The fury of his mentor was getting out of control— Until she took a decisive step forward.

'Enough!' she faced him. 'Stop this tantrum immediately. You're breaking my tent.'

'I should tear you apart!' He shouted. 'You couldn't resist it, could you? You had to intervene. You've never get into my business, why you've done now?'

'Because it was Will. He is my friend.'

'Friend.' he spat the word sarcastically. 'You did not care he was your friend when you convinced me to bring him here. Then you know that eventually I'll feed on him and not put any obstacle.'

'It's not the same feed on someone than turn him into. You need the consent of the victim and I'm sure Will wouldn't give you. He does not want to be a vampire— and certainly he do not want to be your partner. He not even like men, for God's sake.'

'You are blind.' Hannibal snapped, looking at her with contempt.

'You are the blind: you are so obsessed with the idea of conquering Will that you not realize the obvious. You do not want to realize.'

'You are who do not realize: Will wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him. I brought him here to plead and make him my partner. And now it's your fault he's gone to Vilnius. He wants to finish his work as soon as possible to return to the United States—.'

'Doesn't that tell you anything?' Alana glares at him. 'If he choses to leave it's because he doesn't want to be with you.'

'Because you had poisoned him against me! You talked him about me like I was a sybarite, unable to spend more than two seconds interested in someone or something.' he huffed, ironic. 'A heart which is always ready for adventures—.'

'Is it not true? You never pay too much attention to anything but yourself, Hannibal. You're superficial, vain and hedonistic.'

'Is that so bad? We all have our shortcomings. I'm sure Will would understand.'

'You're no good at serious relationships: You want to turn Will on your partner. Why? To do him the same as me, that all others throughout many centuries of your life? You'll get bored as soon as the novelty and with Will will happen the same. But once he was transformed, no longer he would remedy. I have avoided a serious mistake both.'

'You've ruined everything. You've gotten where no one had called you. Poor you, if Will leaves me.

'He will leave you.' she said, angry at his threat. 'Will will return to Louisiana, which is where he should be. And as for me— I'm not afraid of you, Hannibal. I know you well and know how to handle you.'

'So you think? I am your Creator, yet I have control over you.'

'Control can be broken: it becomes weaker with each passing year.'

'You should fear me.' he said, approaching a few steps toward her and given her a black look. 'Especially now that you are not alone.'

Alana turned pale and his blue eyes flashed with anger.

'If you approach Margot, I'll kill you with my bare hands!'

A sardonic smile apen on the Count's lips.

'That would be interesting to see.' his smile disappeared and his face was again unmoved and furious. 'I want you out of my house when we get to Vilnius. I never want to see you anymore.'

'Don't worry, I have a new home. I was going to tell you when we returned. But I will not go until Will do. I wont leave him at your mercy.'

'Whatever you want.' he snorted, dismissive. 'I cannot touch you while he keeps at home, but as he goes— you wont get away with this Alana. Not after what you've done.'

'Do what you want, I'm ready.'

'In due course, you haven't seen the last of me.'

That said, the Count turned on his heels and disappeared, leaving a cluttered tent around. The woman snorted and continued putting things in her backpack, as he walked away.

 _You'll never have Will_ \- she thought, determined - _No, as I can help it_.


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII**

For the next two days, the weather was unsettled in Vilnius. Clouds covered a gray overcast sky and just let pass the sunlight. A thick fog covered the city from dusk until dawn. In the air it was perceived a strange energy, as if a storm was coming. The city was melancholic and dark in those days, accompanied only by an intermittent rain that poured from the sky like a heartbroken cry.

Will spent all that time in the library, his mood affected by the bad weather. The young man tried to alleviate his sudden sadness focusing on work, without crossing paths with anyone but Alana occasionally. She was a support for him at his lowest moments: she consoled him when he was lonely or upset about his situation and encouraged him by assuring that he was doing the right thing.

'Hannibal will come out of this soon.' she said one day. 'He's not used to being refused, that's all. It will be finished before you know it, you'll see.'

But Will had no chance to see it. The day came when his work was finished, and the boy had already bought his plane ticket for the next day and had his luggage ready – he even had said goodbye to Alana, who had comunicated him her decision of move in with Margot Verger in the following days. It seemed that the relationship between them was booming - when things were rushed:

The only moment of the day they both saw Hannibal was at night, when he came to the library to announce them he would go out. As was his custom, the Count barely passed the threshold and his eyes immediately sought to Will. But the young man was standing looking at the fireplace's ornaments and did not return his gaze. Hannibal left, and when it had just spent fifteen minutes of his departure, Alana decided to launch her plan:

'Will, I forgot, this has come for you.' she left his reading aside and rose from his chair to get close to him and give him a piece of paper. The boy looked puzzled the telegram, which came from Louisiana and was dated the previous day.

'It Is Peter.' he said, reading the message, frowning. Suddenly, he went pale with shock. 'Buster is very sick!'

'Oh, my God.' Alana watched him with concern. 'Is it serious?'

'He has been admitted to a clinic. They managed to stabilize him, but do not know if he will live— apparently, he has caught a rare virus—.'

'You should return to New Orleans immediately.' the woman said. 'If he's so bad, it is better you go see him, just in case he—.'

'But—.' Will stirred, altered and confusing. 'I have to call the shelter.'

He took out his mobile phone from his pocket and found him off. He cursed, trying to turn it on.

'Damn, has no battery!' He exclaimed, angry. 'I charged it last night!'

'Do not worry: you can call them later, when you get there—.'

'My flight does not leave until tomorrow.' he replied, and huffed in frustration. 'Damn, what if something happens to Buster while I'm here? It is a twelve-hour flight, what if—?'

'Do not think about it now.' she comforted him. Her hands reached his shoulder and his right arm and she was leading him to the exit of the library. 'What you must do is go upstairs and get your stuff: it is best you travel to Louisiana as soon as possible to make sure what happens. Meanwhile, I'll try to get you a plane ticket online. Surely we can find something last minute or, perhaps, any alternative transport.'

'Make it as quickly as possible, please.'

'Trust me, I will do everything in my hands.'

'Thanks, Alana.'

He will left the library and climbed the steps swiftly. The woman heard him move upstairs, while she used her mobile phone to call a taxi and took the ticket to New Orleans she had bought the day before and which she had skillfully hidden between her bra and blouse.

When Will met her again, loaded with his luggage, Alana smiled to him and gave him the ticket, triumphant.

'I've just printed it. Your flight's in two hours. I've ordered a taxi to take you to the airport.'

'Bless you.' Will sighed, relieved. 'I do not know how to thank you—.'

'It's nothing.' she downplayed. 'I wish Buster a speedy recovery.'

'Thank you very much. You notice everything.'

'Bad habits that one acquired when is an assistant.' she smiled to calm him. 'Oh, and before you leave, I wanted to give you something. I had planned to give it to you tomorrow when we said goodbye, but under the circumstances—.'

She pulled a little bag from her pocket. He will took it in his hand, curious. It was the elegant packaging of a gift: a pendant with a leather bag that smelled like roses—

'Thank you.' said the man, looking at her puzzled. 'Sorry, what is it?'

'An amulet. Its interior hides some crumbled wild roses: it wards off bad spirits and protect you against evil.'

'I did not know you were superstitious.'

'It's a souvenir. A little something to remember Lithuania and me when you'll be away.' she took it off his hands to put it around his neck with a quick motion. She looked into his eyes. 'You must carry it with you at all times. You can take it off to bathe, but nothing more. Otherwise, the protection breaks down.'

'Okay, I'll remember.' he brushed the pendant with his fingers, unable to shake the sudden feeling of strangeness. He was wondering why her friend would have chosen such a gift, when the unmistakable sound of the entrance intercom startled. 'My taxi! I'm going now.'

He picked up the suitcases in the act and was about to leave when Alana stopped him for one last hug.

'Go in peace, Will. And take care yourself.'

'Thank you. The same I say— fair thee well, you and Margot.' he made a hint of a smile when they separated - Goodbye, Alana.'

'Goodbye, Will.'

* * *

The black SUV stopped slowly in front of the entrance to the building, where the woman was waiting for it.

Nothing stopped the car, the trunk opened and Alana quickly put her luggage inside and get in the car. Margot started the engine and joined the traffic as his girlfriend had closed the door on the passenger side.

'It is done?' she questioned, while the other woman put her seat belt on.

Alana nodded, very serious.

'His taxi has left, ten minutes ago. He is on his way to the airport. And I have disabled his mobile phone so he cannot call anybody.'

'He will realize that it is a lie, as soon as he'll comes to New Orleans.'

'By then it will be too late: Will left the country and he will be more than eight thousand kilometers away from Hannibal. That's the important thing.'

'He'll come after us.' the redhead said, after a moment. 'Perhaps we should have killed him before elope—.'

The brunette turned to face her.

'That would have been crazy: at night and when he finishes feeding, is when a vampire is more powerful. And in the case of Hannibal— he has eight centuries: you and I would not have had a single chance against him.'

'So what will we do when he find us?' She shot a nervous glance. She was obviously scared. 'You think he let us go scot-free?'

'First he'll go to Will, he is who he wants.'

'If he fails, it will infuriate him even more and we'll pay the consecuences. And if he succeeds, none of this will make sense—.'

'The important thing is, eventually, we all were as far as possible from him. I will not let him hurt us.' she promised.

'You're no match for Hannibal.'

'No. But when he comes for us, I will have the ground prepared. And if the worst happens— you will be safe.'

Margot looked at her, between surprise and horror.

'That does not do me any good, if you are not safe too. Alana—

'Margot.' she interrupted, staring at her. Her eyes had her same underlying fear. 'Have a little faith in me, okay?'

'Okay.' the redhead sighed and returned his eyes on the road.

She struggled to calm her nerves. That plan was crazy. It had been crazy from the start. The mere idea of interfering with the wishes of a being like Hannibal, who was not only powerful but ruthless, meant to risk losing life— or soul.

Nevertheless, she respected Alana's decision and admired her courage. Face her creator in order to save her friend was quite a feat. She knew his girlfriend was scared, so scared as she was, and was still determined to protect Will from her master.

The truth was she did not have much faith in what they have doing but expected that the risk they both were running was not in vain. At least something good to come out of all that— and, if possible, the two of them should not go out very harmed in the process.

* * *

Hannibal crossed the threshold of the house, back from the hunt— and found it quieter than ever.

He got a strange feeling, a bad feeling. He walked to the library and put his ear to the door: nothing. He called and no one answered. He entered the room and found it empty.

He breathed to calm down and went to the dining room, telling himself that Will and Alana sure would be there, having dinner— but they were not. Neither did come up with them in the living room, or kitchen— when he went upstairs, found the bathrooms and bedrooms empty.

He opened their cabinets, with his heart pounding, clinging to one last hope.

Nothing. No sign of clothing or luggage.

 _It is impossible_ – he thought, not wanting to believe what his eyes sees - _I looked at the card statement: the ticket Will bought was for tomorrow morning—_

But then he realized: Alana was not in the house. What a curious thing. She had gone right on par Will, apparently.

Rage – that voracious dragon he knew so well - woke up in his belly and rose to his brain. Of course, his pupil would not be so stupid! She knew he would go for her as Will leave. And he was also threatened Margot, so she had a double motive to leave.

 _Knowing her, she would has made sure Will took his trip. That way they both would be out of my reach. She has gone, killing two birds with one stone, taking advantage of my absence. What cunning girl she is—_

He had been mocked. Once again Alana had demonstrated her intelligence, which once made him notice her - beyond her stunning beauty - and decided to made her his guardian.

 _Okay, Alana. You have won this battle. But I'll recover Will and I'll find you and Margot. And when I do that—_

He turned on his heels and left the woman's room angrily. That night he will be busy looking for them both. He knew Alana would have made every effort to cover their tracks, but in the case of Will it was not going to give him many problems.

The boy could only return to a place: Louisiana, his home. The beautiful Crawford's Hotel, at 313 Toulouse Street, New Orleans. He had already researched on the Internet and knew very well how to get. He knew the French Quarter more than enough—

Suddenly he stopped in his tracks, seeing a plastic bag waiting for him at the door of his bedroom. It had been left there almost as a present, with a white envelope on top bearing his name written in the unmistakable Will's handwriting.

A message. The young man would have certainly left it there for him before leaving.

His first impulse was to run to the bag. Then he stopped, forcing himself not to lose control as simple nonsense. But he was in front of the bag before he realized, his heart beating of hope and doubt. It was the first time since what happened in the camp that Will communicated with him. Until then they both had avoided each other, although for different reasons. Will because he felt uncomfortable with his presence, and he because he did not want the boy felt harassed. His plan was to let pass a few days before returning to talk to him and make peace: he would show understanding, sorry for the misunderstanding and willing to befriend. He would get back Will's trust and finally, when Will had lowered their defenses again, he'll conquer him and will turn him into his partner with his consent. Then, neither hundred Alanas could separate them.

But things had changed. The sudden release of Will, no doubt sponsored by his pupil, had been a setback in his plans. And now was that letter—

He opened it without thinking twice, wanting to know what it said, laying his sight on the words that the young man has dedicated him, as before.

He had to read it twice. And further, a third. His smile was expanding with each reading. His heart began to throb, exhilarated, as he read the handwriting of his beloved. There it was: the key to his dreams, the success of his strategy.

'Oh, Will.' he whispered, happy.

In the bag were all the gifts he had given to the boy during his stay in Lithuania: the suits, the tackle box— Will wanted to return it all. But no matter. It did not matter because this was not a setback, but a slight slip. The important thing was the message contained in the letter— everything else was insignificant.

He left the bag there abandoned and the letter still in his hand - thought not discard it - he went downstairs to the library. There was his laptop and at that time he needed it to finalize some details.

He was going on a trip. This was his plan B, just in case he didn't get Will stayed in Lithuania. He has everything ready, but had not yet given the order. Now was the time.

'Wait for me, Will.' murmured, smiling at the computer screen lit. 'Soon we'll be together.'


	9. Chapter 9

**IX**

It was nearly ten o'clock in the morning when Will crossed the threshold of the hotel. He was loaded with suitcases and Buster was with him, safe in his carrier.

Bella Crawford, who was behind the reception desk at the time, looked surprised to see him.

'Will! What are you doing here? We did not expect you till tonight.'

Jack Crawford left the kitchen when he heard his wife's voice, and stared at his tenant as surprised as she was. He was a stout man with dark skin and eyes. At that time of day he wore his white work uniform.

'I had to take my flight.' Will huffed, frustrated.

'Why?' the woman asked, looking puzzled.

'I'll explain you later. Now I want to go to my room to drop all this and accommodate Buster.'

'Wait, I'll give you your key.' she turned and walked to the box that was behind her. She returned seconds later to give the key to the young man.

'Have you made coffee?' He asked. 'I need a cup.'

'Of course.' said Jack. 'You go on down when you're done and we take one in the kitchen.'

Will nodded. He picked up all his belongings and went to his room, which was just down the hall on the same floor. Jack and Bella exchanged a glance before went to the kitchen together. At that time there was no bustle at the hotel, so they could allow themselves a break. And the kitchen was just behind the reception, so if a new customer or a tenant entered, they could see them without problems and could treat them.

After ten minutes, Will joined them at the table.

'Well.' Jack placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him and take a seat close to his wife - Now, tell us what happened to you.'

The boy pursed his lips. From the expression on his face, he was obviously very upset.

'Alana has deceived me.'

'What?'

'Why would she do that?' Bella inquired, puzzled.

'I do not know.' he shrugged. 'Last night she gave me a telegram, which had been sent by Peter, seemingly, and it said Buster was very ill and he had been admitted, suffering from some strange virus. But arriving this morning at the airport, I called the shelter and they have assured me that Buster was perfectly and they had not sent me any message.'

'But why did you take a plane just like that?' Jack questioned. 'Why did not you call them first?'

'My phone ran out of battery.'

'Oh, Will.' snorted the cook.

'I plugged in my phone to the charger the night before.' he defended himself.

'Maybe it is broken.' said Bella.

'I do not know, this morning it seemed to work perfectly. Anyway, I went to pick up Buster at the shelter and talked to everyone there, taught them the telegram: it's false.

' _Mamma Mia_! But how could Alana make such a thing? And why?'

'Sounds like she wanted you out of the way.' deduced Jack, frowning.

'I think so.' he sighed. 'She has betrayed me. We were supposed to be friends. She even got me the job in Lithuania—

'Honey.' Bella placed a consoling hand on his forearm, which the young man leaning on the table. 'I'm sorry.'

Jack shook his head, disappointed.

'Sometimes you do not know what snakes are sleeping under your pillow.'

'I think she wanted to get me away from Hannibal.' he said, after a moment.

'Hannibal?' Bella looked puzzled. 'You mean your boss, Count Lecter?'

The boy nodded. His expression changed and turned slightly uncomfortable.

'He— well, he was ride behind me.' he confessed. 'I did not realize. I thought I had hit it off and had made a new friend, but it turns out he was interested in something else.'

'And you're also interested?' Bella asked curiously.

'He likes me.' he admitted. 'But I think he wants something serious and I do not know if I'm ready for that.'

Jack tutted.

'For God's sake, man, that's the story of your life. And how can you be so blind not to realize when someone is ride behind you? I cannot understand—

'Jack. Now is not the time for that.' his wife cut him. She turned back to Will. 'Do you want to be with Hannibal?'

'Yes.'

'And he wants to be with you.' the young man nodded. 'But Alana gets in the way, why? Do you think she's jealous and that's the reason she wanted to get you away from Hannibal?'

'I suppose. But it has no sense!' he exclaimed, obfuscated. 'Alana and Hannibal had a relationship years ago but it did not last long, and now she is with another person: she told me they were going to go live together.'

'That woman is like a dog in the manger.' Jack complained.

'Her motivations does not have to be necessarily romantic.' Bella said. 'Maybe what bother her is that you and Hannibal might become so close.'

'She told me he was always looking for something new, you know, affairs. And Hannibal warned me not to believe anything she said because she wanted to tear us apart.'

'She tried to make you believe he was not the right man for you.' Bella pursed her lips, her beautiful face in disgust.

'God, I'm stupid!' Will burst suddenly. 'Hannibal was being honest and I did not believe him. Alana was cheating on me and like a fool I trusted her and I fell into her trap.

'Can you fix it somehow? It is no use cry over spilled milk, but if you can save something—

'I do not know. I hope to do.' he hit the table. 'Damn! I have been an asshole. Hannibal wont want to see me again.'

'Don't be so dramatic.' replied Jack. 'You goofed, that's all. If the Count is really interested in you, sure he can forgive you. Otherwise, he would be an arrogant idiot and you shouldn't be with a person like that.'

Will pursed his lips, his big blue eyes flashing with indignation.

'I'll call Alana as soon as a decent time in Lithuania. And I will put the record straight. If it were not so far, I'd back there and—.'

'Do not make bad blood, Will.' Bella prevented him. 'You've discovered her move— late, but you can still return it.' the boy looked puzzled at her and the woman proceeded to explain herself: 'She wanted to get you away from Hannibal, right? Well, then your best revenge is not to scold her or return to Lithuania to strangle her. Fix things with the Count: he is no longer your boss, so there is no conflict of interest. If you both want it, and being he such a rich man, surely he would not find it difficult to take a plane to New Orleans so you can see each other and clarify things. He could even stay here for a while.'

'That way, we could meet him.' Jack nodded. 'If the thing between you is serious, we want to give our approval.'

'I've never said we will get serious.' said Will, backing cowed while frowning.

'Oh, You can be a dog—'

'Jack, please, don't joke.' his wife intervened. 'Will, it's not really matter the seriousness of the relationship, just you both wanting the same. Contact Hannibal and solve the problem. Now that Alana believes she has taken you out of the way, and if it is true she has gone to live with her partner, they will no longer be there to bother you. You can take advantage of that.'

'You're right.' he said, after consider it. Then he shook his head. 'I cannot believe Alana has done this to me. We've been friends for years, I would have never believed it from her.'

'This things happen, sweetheart, unfortunately.'

'It is clear you cannot put your hand in the fire for anyone.' corroborated Jack, wincing.

They were silent for a while. The Crawfords sipped their coffee, although Will not yet tasted his. Suddenly, the young man took off something curtly and left it on the table, scowling and angry. Bella Crawford saw the pendant and it immediately drew her attention.

'What is that?'

'An amulet. Alana gave me before I left: she said I must carry it at all times to protect me from evil.' he declared ironically, in a bitter tone. 'It did not protect me from her.'

Bella picked up the pendant. She watched it, then looked at her husband. Jack looked at her and they did not exchange a single word, although their faces and their eyes were saying many things. Suddenly, the skin of both seemed a few shades lighter.

'Is there something wrong?' Will questioned them, looking to one and another.

'Not at all.' Bella smiled reassuringly. 'But why do not we talk a little more about Hannibal? What kind of man is he? You've not talked much about him.'

'Why do you want to know?'

'Curiosity.' she shrugged dismissively.

'Well, Hannibal is— attractive, intelligent, charismatic— he likes the good life, especially art and good food.'

'He must be a very active person.'

'Yes, at night especially.' the Crawfords nailed a quizzical look and Will felt the need to explain himself: 'He has a medical condition that prevents him from leaving day. Porphyria: the sun hurts him, I have seen the scars.'

'Are they too old?' Jack wanted to know, intrigued. 'He caught them when he was a child or—?'

'I do not know, I'm not a doctor. Are you all right?' He added, puzzled. 'You're acting rare—

'Evething is okay, Will.' said Bella. 'Do you want another coffee? Yours is out cold.' she picked up the three cups and go to the coffee maker. She returned shortly to the table and placed another cup of hot coffee in front of the young man, smiling friendly. 'Tell us more, not your entire stay in Lithuania would be bad.'

'Of course not.'

Will felt increasingly rare. Still, he pleased his friends and spent the next hour talking about Lithuania, Hannibal, and his experience in the country.

* * *

 _Dear Hannibal:  
I'm very sorry about what happened. Like I said, I did not inted that to happen. I know it's affecting you and I cannot be happy with that. If it's any consolation, I'm having not much better.  
I thought about the reasons you gave me for not to talk to me first about your feelings. I know that once I blame you, but I've been thinking about it and now I understand: you were right, you could not be so straightforward. The truth is in your shoes, I probably would have done the same.  
What I'm trying to do is to apologize. I know I've hurt you and it was not my intention. I would like us to be friends. I do not know if it will be possible, because I understand that your feelings for me go beyond friendship, but_ _—_ _if you wanted to try_ _—_ _maybe we could give ourselves a chance. Above all I have grown very fond of you, Hannibal, and did not want a difference like this make us lose everything we've built.  
My flight leaves tomorrow morning. I know you can not be there to say goodbye, so I write this letter. It is my farewell. An bye for now_ _—_ _because I prefer it than a goodbye. I do not like the idea of saying goodbye to you for good, I do not want to lose you._

 _Yours sincerely:  
W.G._

PS: I'll return all your gifts. Although I love them, I do not feel comfortable keeping them. Please do not take offense, but I think you better get them back.

Hannibal smiled for the umpteenth time rereading Will's letter. He was traveling in his coffin in the cargo of a private plane to New Orleans. Will's words consoled him on his journey and encouraged his desire to be back with him.

Only a few hours.

He had arranged for a delivery company to send his coffin - the remains of his late brother, if someone asked about it - from his attic in Vilnius to a little house rented near to the port. That would be its center of operations in the city and from there he'll begin to move to achieve his goal.

He was going to meet, seduce and turn Will Graham. As surely as the sky was, as sure as he loved the man. No matter how long it takes him: the letter showed that the young man was very willing to let him into his life again and that was all he needed. Will loved him and did not want to lose him. And who was he to go against the wishes of his beloved? Especially when they shared the same desire.

No. Although it cost him forever, he will back to his side. He was going to meet him and was going to love him. Neither oceans nor time can separate them.

He folded the letter and pressed it against his chest, right over his heart, which seemed to throb in response to the boy's words.

He promised himself he would not leave New Orleans, if it was not taking Will with him.

* * *

'Stay where you are, do you hear me? I'll pick you up.'

'Jack, it's not necessary—.'

'I do not want you walking the streets at night.' his voice was sharp across the phone.

'But—? I'm not ten years!.' Will complained, shocked and offended. 'I've only fogotten the time, playing with the kids in the shelter. It's not the first time. I can get home perfectly alone—.'

'I have said no. Wait for me there, I go right away.'

He hung up. Will stared at the phone surprised, frowning. Jack and Bella were rare since his arrival. They insisted that nothing happens, but the first day he was not allowed to leave the kitchen until he had answered every one of their questions— most concerning Hannibal and his family. And they had two days taking turns to accompany him when he pulled Buster for a walk at night, after dinner. That morning he had discovered a strange smell of salt in his room and realized Bella had cleaned it thoroughly and had left two separate vases with wild roses by his bed and in front of the single bedroom window. In addition, the woman had tried to made him carry back Alana's pendant—

 _I do not know what the hell happens_ – he thought, angry - _But it's stupid. And it is enough. I do not need protection and of course I don't need a escort or a nanny to take me home. No evil spirit will attack me or kidnap me overnight_.

He left the shelter angry, saying goodbye to his friend Peter just passing through reception. He walked outside and turned left, directing his steps toward the hotel. As he came home he was to have a proper talk with Jack and Bella and went to set the record straight once and for all. That situation has run out of their control. It could not continue.

He headed Toulouse Street, falling squarely in the arms of a thick fog. He stopped walking for a moment, because he could not see anything beyond his hands. It was strange. Normally the mist rise from the port to cover the city and it often smelled of the sea, but this fog did not seem to come from nowhere and came from everywhere at the same time. It doesn't smell of salt, but rather damp earth—

 _Will_

He turned, startled. He could swear someone had called his name near to him. A shiver ran down his spine and raised the hair on his nape, as if a cold hand had just touch him. He wondered if maybe it was Jack, who had returned after not find him in the shelter, or had not been able to get there because of the fog and in any case he would be looking for him along the street.

He called his friend loudly and nobody answered. There seemed to be a soul on the street, apart from him, but he knew that was absurd and also with such fog he could not know—

He decided to move forward. The hotel was forward, he knew. If he walked straight through the fog he could find it. he had to, because fear had begun to flutter in his chest with the ferocity of a wounded bird. He must get home as soon as possible, but the fog was around him everywhere. It makes he could not see the road, it derided his senses and seem to not want to leave him—

Suddenly, he bumped into someone. Confused, at first he thought that against all odds he had hit a wall in the middle of the street. But soon he left his mistake, when the blow made him almost fall to the ground and the stranger who he had crashed against emerged from the fog to help him and avoid him a spectacular fall.

He was shocked to recognize: he was facing the very Hannibal Lecter.

'Hi, Will.' the Count smiled at him. 'I was hoping to see you again.'

'Ha-Hannibal, is that you?' he could not believe it. It must be a dream, an optical illusion caused by this elusive and cunning fog. However, when he clung to the other man arms to stay on his feet he had to admit that the man in front of him was not a chimera, he was absolutely real. 'What are you doing in New Orleans? I mean—,' he corrected himself, because his question has been abrupt and he did not want to be rude, 'you've come.'

Hannibal's smile widened and his reddish-brown eyes glowed with satisfaction.

'Of course I've come. I read your letter. I thought we must face to face, so I flew here. I arrived just hours ago.'

'Do not know how much I appreciate that—' he sighed, sorry. 'Alana deceived me. She made me took my trip with a false excuse.'

'I imagine it.' he did not seem surprised.

'I'm really sorry. You were right: she wanted to tear us apart. I thought she was my friend and she wanted to protect me. I did not realize—.'

'None of that matters now, Will.' he comforted him. He approached him and took his hands in his with a gesture that was natural, so the young man dind't notice it— or did not care. 'The important thing is you found out the truth and we are still time to fix things. I've come to that.'

'Aren't you mad at me?' He asked, looking uncertain. 'You should, I have behaved like a fool. I didn't believed in your word when you tried to warn me about Alana. I'm a complete idiot—.'

'Do not beat yourself up.' he took a step toward him, lacing his fingers with Will's. 'Alana cheated on you because she took advantage of your friendship. She knew you trust her so you'll believe her words. However, she made a big mistake in thinking that her wiles effect would last forever. She have been very naive, actually. The fact you came back to New Orleans did not stop me from coming to you. And now that Alana and Margot have left together, they cannot be an obstacle between us. We're free.'

'I do not know why Alana did. Was she jealous or—?'

'Her motives are insignificant. Jealous, wrong, so what? She has betrayed two friends and that's unforgivable. In addition, she has made a fool of herself, because despite all her efforts she has not gotten what she wanted. Look at us, we're together now.'

Will smiled, accepting the reality of the situation. His hands shook Hannibal's and he was happy to have him there.

'I'm glad you came.'

'And I'm glad to see you again. I've rented a little house near to the port, why not come with me and talk there, at length?'

Hannibal's eyes became warm when he contemplated him and Will thought he had never seen eyes like that. They were unique and fascinating.

'I want to go with you.' he confessed and the Count smiled again.

'Then come. Come home with me.'

Will nodded, giving his consent. Hannibal circled his shoulders with one arm, he stuck him to his body and they left down the street together, as the fog was dissipating in their path.


	10. Chapter 10

**NOTE:** I'm a terrible person: I've played with languages again. I cross my fingers, hoping I've done it well and I wish I've not commited an unforgivable linguistic crime with Lithuanian or Creole languages.

* * *

 **X**

Hannibal's shelter was made entirely of wood and rested on its foundation, about two hundred meters away from the port. The lights could be seen in the distance and the smell of salt could be inhaled from the entrance of the house.

Inside, the house was clean and tidy, and minimally furnished: a coat rack by the door, a small kitchen in the background, an old bed near to the toilet, and a lounge with the essential just in front of the dining room, which was basically a simple table surrounded by four chairs.

'Not what one would expect from you.' Will said, looking around. 'It is—.'

'Rustic but comfortable.' concluded the Count. 'However, the best of this house is not on the surface, but underneath. Follow me.' he waved him and the young man followed in his footsteps, intrigued. He took him into the living room and pulled the carpet that covered the floor, revealing a trapdoor which he opened by pulling the ring. Will could see the dim lighting of a basement down there, while Hannibal told him with a gesture to go down the stairway. 'After you, sir.'

The boy glanced at his host, between shy and curious. At such times he felt like an adventurous child, about to go down to the cave and discover its treasures.

What he discovered was a large basement. The walls were gray and it has not many windows. They were small, just enough for ventilation of the place. Although, with a few properly distributed candles, an old record player and some stylish furniture, Hannibal had turned that gray and dark room in the perfect retreat for a date.

'It's amazing.' Will said admiringly. He was smiling when he came over to the table, which had been set for two. 'You've cooked Cajun style salmon.' he approved, enthusiastically.

The Count smiled, unable to help it. The happiness of his partner was a source of satisfaction for him. He came next to the boy and put a hand affectionately on his shoulder.

'I found an old cookbook on the shelf. I thought you might like.'

Will turned his head to look at him, wearing the most beautiful and wide smile.

'You know how to please me.'

'I hope so.'

They took their seats. They tasted the food without talking much, but neither need. They were able to hold long conversations in silence, just exchanging glances. Many things were said before they finished the dessert.

When Hannibal rose to remove the last supper dishes, on his return he made sure to turn on the record player. An ancient ballad without lyrics was heard in the room. It sounded almost like a waltz. Will have never heard it and turned in his chair to look at his companion, intrigued.  
Seeing that the other man was holding his hand in his direction, making him a clear invitation to dance, the young man stood suddenly nervous:

'I'm not used to it—.'

'Have not you ever danced?' Hannibal asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Will shook his head.

'Not even at the prom course: I dind't attend.'

'Why?'

'I left my studies before finishing high school. I was not going too well.'

'Sure those classes were no match for your intelligence. But in relation to dance: if you can't, I can teach you. Just let yourself go.' he fixed his reddish brown gaze on boy's blue eyes, his hand remained lying to him. 'Do you trust me, Will?'

'Yes.'

'Then let me lead you.'

The young man stood and walked to the Count, doddering. Hannibal received him by taking one of his hands with his and linking him by the waist with the other, slowly, giving him time to get used to the contact.

When both were ready, the dance began. Count guided the boy steps until he was ready. Will proved to be a good dancer and let Hannibal carried him away with absolute trust, synchronizing his movements with his companion's until finally the two moved in unison.

It was like flying. Such as a feather that slides into the wind. The candlelights, the music, the familiar scent of Hannibal, the closeness of his body— the young man's heart began to beat faster, he felt his body vibrated between the arms of the Earl and his skin began to feel the need for his contact, being run over for those frozen hands which held him with the greatest warmth in the world, firmly, as if they didn't want him to escape and he did not want to neither.  
When the music ended, they barely separated from each other. Hannibal smiled, a genuine smile as he watched the face of his partner. Will could not take it anymore and stood on tiptoe to kiss him, throwing his arms around his neck.

The Count was eight centuries, and had never been kissed like that. The boy drank his lips adoringly, dedicating the lower lip as long as the superior. Kissing, nibbling, sucking. Hannibal was breathless when the young man finally delighted him with the caresses of his tongue.

The kiss finished and the Count slid down the neck of his partner, enjoying the soft skin and curled curls between her eager fingers. Will, meanwhile, had begun to wheeze.

'I wanted this to happen from the beginning.' he panted, excited. 'I never should have let you, I've been a fool.'

'The important thing is that we are together.' he stopped a moment and looked at him, worried. 'Will, there's something I should tell you before—.'

'Later.' he puts a finger on his lips to silence him. And Hannibal obeyed, because actually the last thing he wanted was interrupt that moment. He drove his partner back to the bed and there they both lay down, one on the other. Earl's hands roamed the boy's body, delighting him and taking his clothes. 'I thought I would never feel your touch on me again. I thought after what happened, you would not want to see me.'

'Fool. I could not leave you: you are the blood that drives my heart, you are my life— my love.'

' _Oh, mô lamou_.' Will took Hannibal's face in his hands and looked at him with adoration and desire in his blue eyes, like no one had looked him before. ' _Linm mò. Pa Lésé mò parti_.'

' _Comme vous voulez_.'

The Count kissed his partner, eager. They took off each other's clothes and when at last their bodies were exposed, kisses and caresses were distributed without constraints. There remained no place unexplored or centimeter of skin without worshiping. Hannibal estimulated Will and Will did the same with Hannibal, using his lips, his hands, his tongue—

They were close when the Count knelt between the legs of the young man, and he surrounded him by the waist with them and lifted his hips to facilitate penetration. They started with a soft pace, which soon became passionate. As the kisses and caresses returned, they lost all control. The desire and urgency did not let them think. They were one inside the other, as close as they could— and still wanted to be more so. It was an irrational need.

Will dug his nails into Hannibal's back when they reached the climax. Hannibal bit him, gently and lovingly in the neck, without hurting him, just for the whim to hear that delicious sound of pleasure he loved so much and which so generously his partner gave him.

Finally it was time they separated, and they did, exhausted. Hannibal lay down beside Will, who immediately took his hand to make him closer, which the Count gladly accepted. He fled the boy in his arms and handed out little kisses through his hair and jaw.

' _Mon amour_.' he whispered in his ear, hoarse voice a cause of the desire which has been satiated, but not extinct. ' _Mon doux prince Créole_.'

Will smiled. He turned his face to watch his partner with bright eyes.

'You think I'm a prince?'

'To me you're.' he stroked his cheek, placing a rebel loop behind his right ear. His brown eyes looked at him with intensity, an intensity that sent a shiver of desire in Will's back and made his knees weaken - _Ǎs tave myliu, Will. Je t'aime_ – he said in French, so that he would understand.

The young man looked at him and Hannibal knew from his expression that his words had touched him. He kissed him tenderly on the lips, and turned until he was lying on his stomach. Then he pulled Will over to place, transmitting him the message loud and clear.

Will slid his hand up to Hannibal's cock and while he covered with kisses his neck, he began to stroke him. It did not take long to get the first groans of pleasure by Hannibal, which gave him the green light they expected.

They made love many times as they wanted. It was a very long night.

* * *

'I can not believe we've lost him.'

Jack sighed, as he maneuvered with the steering wheel to make the car turn left on the next street.

They have been hours touring the city, looking for Will. Upon reaching the shelter he had not found him and, worried, he toured several times the way to the hotel trying to find his friend. When he didn't, he had no choice but to warn Bella and they immediately they were out looking for him.

They feared the worst.

'He left, ignoring me.' he snorted, whining with his head. 'I specifically said him wait in the shelter.'

'We'd have put him on notice.' Bella wailed, wincing.

'Put him on notice? What you intended we should say to him, that he should not go out at night because we think he is being stalked by a vampire? He would have both entered in a mental hospital, or as some he would have laughed in our face.'

'But he is in danger now.' she replied angrily. 'You heard what those guys told us: they saw him walking in the company of another man. In our own street! - she hit her right thigh with a fist, frustrated. 'The bastard stole him almost the front door!'

'Calm down. We do not know for sure if it was Lecter or not: these guys said a tall man with brown hair and dress suit. It could be anyone.'

'We know it is not anyone, Jack. We know.'

Jack sighed in disgust. They both were worried about his friend, who was the closest thing they never had to a son. Since they had recognized the damn amulet, everything had complicated: now it was clear that Alana had not tried to remove Will of the way, but to protect him. She wanted him away from Count Lecter, who had infatuated with the boy and he and Bella knew from experience what that meant.

Will was in a greater danger than he could imagine. They had tried to keep him safe and had failed: nothing had served they accompany him at night when he pulled the dog, or placing the vases with wild roses in his room, or purify it with salt to ward off any evil spirits and prevent them reaching to the young man— in the end Will was gone - apparently voluntarily - with the Count.

Jack looked out the window in a vain tried to locate his friend, but only saw the sun, rising by the east on the horizon.

'The sun is rising.' he said grimly. 'We cannot do much more today, we should go home. The vampire will already have gone to bed and Will will be safe during the day.'

'That if he has not been transformed yet.' Bella replied, in a tone that showed her anguish.

'Have a little faith.' he comforted her, although they both knew they should not have hope in that circumstances.

Will had spent a whole night in a vampire hands. Rare would be if he still follow intact. Count Lecter certainly wanted him as a companion, or perhaps as a servant. Whatever it was, there was only one chance in a million that Will continue being human at this point.

If he didn't appear soon, little they could do for him, except look for him or wait for him to return to the hotel on their own feet— although in this case it is likely that they had to drive a stake through his heart.

Neither they wanted to think about it.

* * *

Will woke up with the delicious scent of coffee flooding the room and the unmistakable sound of someone's footsteps coming down the basement stairs.

He opened his eyes slowly and turned his head - was lying face down - to see Hannibal came to him with a large tray in his hands. He could smell the orange juice and the croissants with butter.

'Good morning.' he greeted his partner, sleepily.

'Good morning.' the Count stopped with a smile beside the bed . 'Are you hungry, my love? I've prepared breakfast.'

'Breakfast at—,' he looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. Suddenly he straightened up, surprised, 'eight p.m. God, I've slept all day.'

'It's what happens when you spend sleepless night.' he smiled, amused. 'Now, sit down please, we should have breakfast.'

Will sat on the bed, being seated with his back against the headboard. Hannibal placed the tray on his lap, and taking a seat beside him on the bed, he proceeded to put his napkin on his thighs while the young man attacked the croissants. Will was rested after many hours of sleep and had a good appetite.

'I have to call Jack and Bella.' he said while they ate. 'Jack must be furious because I left him high and dry at the shelter. And I haven't come to the hotel all night, I hope he and Bella have not called the police.'

'That would be an exaggeration. Certainly all this could be fix with a message.'

'You do not know Jack: he's going to scold me.' he predicted.

Hannibal frowned, while he serve himself a tall glass of juice.

'Is he your friend or your father?'

'A little of both, I guess. He and Bella have no children, so I think I'm the closest thing to them.'

'Still, you're a grown up child.' he said. 'To spend the night outside is very normal.'

'And I hope it's not the first.' said the boy, hiding as he took a bite another croissant.

The Count smiled. Nothing else in the world he wanted more than spend his nights with Will, but to that was really possible, they first had to overcome an obstacle.

'Up to you to decide if you want to have more nights like this or not. It's what I wanted to tell you last night, but could not.'

'What do you mean?' he watched him frowning slightly.

Hannibal took courage, it was time to speak:

'I have to tell you something that will decisively influence your decision to stay with me or not.'

'What's going on? You are scaring me.'

'That's not my intention.' he stared, leaving his glass on the tray. 'Will, there are things you do not know about me: I am not who you think I am.'

'And who are you? Are not you Count Lecter?'

'I am.' he nodded. 'But I'm not the eighth of my house, as you think, but the first.'

'The first Count Lecter died in the fifteenth century. You told me his story.'

'I know.'

They stared. Will got the feeling that something serious was happening. He put aside his croissant, unable to eat anything else. The attitude of his partner troubled him too much for it.

'Hannibal—.'

'Let me show you.' asked the Count. 'The words reach not explain it clearly, you will understand better if you see it.'

The young man swallowed. He did not know what was going to happen and he was afraid. Hannibal leaned toward him and pressed his lips on his for a kiss.

A succession of images burst into the boy's head: he saw the castle Lecter, as it had been in ancient days; He saw a noble family from centuries ago; a little girl playing with her older brother in a room where the sun did not shine; the flames razing the castle and an adult man - Hannibal. He looked different with long hair, medieval clothes and the appearance of a maddened beast, but he had no doubt it was him: his Hannibal - being dragged between an angry mob to be burned on a pyre. The crowd shouted feverish, wanted to end the demon, the vampire hiding in the castle. They had already removed his family, whom God had cursed with such a monstrosity, and now had to eliminate him; he did not recognize the words in Lithuanian Hannibal threw them from the fire, but it became clear they were more than a threat, a promise: he will come back— and he will destroy them all with the powers of darkness; last he saw an wandering Hannibal, full of rage, he was a furious beast with a dark soul who bathed himself in blood—

The kiss ended. Will trembled, invaded by emotions that were so his as Hannibal's. The young man curled into a ball, unable to cope with what he had seen, trying to escape from it all.

'I'm sorry.' the Count apologized, his face was transfigured by the experience and there were tears in his eyes peeking out. 'It's horrible, I know. Forgive me for cause you this suffering—.' he reached out to comfort him, but the boy departed from him _ipso facto_. 'Are you afraid of me?'

Will watched him with horror.

'Who are you? What are you?'

'I'm Hannibal. And I am also the creature you have seen. I am the monster that men like you would killed. I am a vampire.'

'No.' he shook his head. 'I cannot believe it, it's impossible. I cannot—

Sympathizing with his pain, the Count took the boy's hand and placed it over his heart. Will could prove without any doubt that nothing was beating in the chest of his lover. He looked at him, horrified.

'This is what I am: I'm not alive nor dead. I feed on the blood of others to survive. I cannot see the sunlight or I can die, just exist.' he looked at him, solemnly.

'Now you know everything about me. And you must choose: you can leave if you want, I will not stop you. I want you to be my partner, but I cannot have you by force. You must be who decides.'

'I do not want to be like you. I do not want to be a vampire.'

'If you do not want, you do not have to. You can be my guardian. I feed you occasionally with my blood, just a few drops, and that would give you special abilities: strength, better senses, and immunity against disease and death. You would not have to give up the sun and you could keep your youth forever.'

'And be your servant, your slave? Is that what Alana was?'

'Alana was my guardian, never my servant. I have not servants, Will. And I certainly never would turn you into that.' he said. By his face, it seemed that the young man's words had offended him. 'As my keeper, you'd take care of me and would be by my side. I did not want anything else since I saw you for the first time. I want you be my partner.'

The young man made the tray aside and pulled away the sheet that covered him. Hannibal looked down, watching the speed at which he out of bed and began to dress— it was obvious that his intention was not to stay there.

'I have to go.' said the boy, confirming his suspicions. He finished putting shoes and walked swiftly up the stairs. 'I need air. I'll take a walk.'

'As you wish.'

Hannibal closed his eyes, hearing the trapdoor closing and seconds after the front door. The tears that his eyes held now spilled down his cheeks.

He was sure Will wont return.

* * *

*And here is the English translation:

W: My love. Love me. Don't let me leave.  
H: As you wish.  
H: My love. My sweet Creole prince.


	11. Chapter 11

**NOTE:** That's all, Folks! I hope you'll enjoy the end chapter of this story. I want to thank you all for your time, reviews and for have included my story among your favourites. I hope you'll enjoy the next stories. I'm going to publish "The Grim &The Savage" during the weekend, just in case you were interested ;)

* * *

 **XI**

In the middle of the warm summer night, Will walked aimlessly around the city. His head and heart were buzzing with images and thoughts. He could not get out of his mind the things he had seen and heard in the last hours.

Hannibal, a vampire. His Hannibal. Had he lied to him all this time? What had told him about his ancestor and his porphyria— was all a lie? Knowing what he knows now, he realized that the Count had misrepresented certain aspects of the truth - those that nobody in their right mind would believe - but not the whole truth.

However, there were dark points he could not stop thinking about and that now came to his mind, tormenting him: if Hannibal was a supernatural being, a creature who fed on human blood— would have he fed on him some time? It would have been very easy for him because he had spent most of the summer at his home and he trust enough in the Count as to give him free access to him. Suddenly, he remembered the night they both walked together through the city: he had woken up feeling exhausted and dizzy, not remembering anything apart from pieces of a dream, something about playing with the fog— he had been sleeping all day, and when he look in the bathroom mirror he had noticed a small scratch on his neck he did not know where it came from and which he had not granted greater importance at that time. He fell suddenly realized that a similar mark had appeared in the same place, the night after his meeting at the club with Hannibal and the others— and again he not remember much about it. So far he had blamed his memory lagoon on the absinthe. But what if it had not been the cause? Had Hannibal dared to drink his blood without his permission? Would he have assaulted him to feed himself, just as he did with others, his preys? Was he also a prey for the Count? Think about it made him feel distressed and angry at the same time. If Hannibal had fed on him without his consent, that was an outrage, a clear violation of his person. The Count would have to answer for it.

He quickened his pace, staring at the ground, without paying the slightest attention to what was around him. Neither the buildings nor people cared. He could not stop thinking:

He thought about the night he had spent in the arms of Hannibal: passion, tenderness and dedication with which they had made love— several times. He could not deny that he loved this man— or vampire— or whatever he was. And he wanted him too. No wonder Hannibal always treated him with the utmost consideration and respect, devoting all his attention and affection. He ccouldn't have any doubt Hannibal loved him, but—

Would he was prepared for what that meant? If he decided to stay with him, even though he did not become a vampire, would have to spend eternity next to each other. He would be the guardian of Conde - not his servant, Hannibal himself had stressed - and should take care of him all the time they were together. That would be a lot or a little? Would he be able to cope with his tasks? Hannibal was tired of it at some point, end up being sought another and he would have to abandon him, like Alana had done?

He didn't know what to do. His heart and brain were confused by so many revelations and feelings. He knew he loved Hannibal and wanted to be with him, but his vampirism could be an obstacle for his relationship. Things could fare very badly for them, fatal. At stake was his future, a future that could well last for eternity. It was not deciding anything without more, without properly meditate.

At such times, his life expectancy is reduced to three ways: stay with Jack and Bella until he died (this was the most realistic of the three, because with his limited resources he was not sure he could meet one day his dream); somehow get that little house he longed to share with their dogs and live in a retreat of peace and solitude until his death; or spend the rest of his days with Hannibal, a being who loved him and towards his own heart pushed him, and certainly he had enough resources to grant home with both dreamed.

What he must to do?

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks by inertia, and lifted his head. He looked up and realized he had stopped right at the door of the animal shelter.

* * *

Jack and Bella returned to the hotel at dawn, after his second consecutive day searching Will.

They had found nothing after searching for streets, cemeteries and abandoned buildings. Any place where a vampire could find refuge. There was no sign of Will nowhere, it seems that the earth had swallowed him.

Bella went to reluctantly leave the keys to the locker behind the reception desk, when she suddenly stopped.

'Jack.'

Her husband turned his head to look at her as felt the tremor in her voice. The woman was still in the middle of the room, frozen. She stretched his arm to signal the counter and they both saw the letter: a white envelope left on the surface of polished wood. He had his handwritten names on the front.

They rushed for it immediately.

Bella came first and opened the envelope with trembling hands to take the letter. They read it together:

 _Dear Jack and Bella:  
Forgive me for not giving signs of life in two days. I know that you will be very worried, I apologize, and I assure you no longer have to go on suffering for me. I am well and safe: I'm not dead or wounded, or in prison, or anything like that. I am with Hannibal and I decided to stay with him.  
You will find it surprising, I know. But I want to be with him and he with me. That is why I have made this decision, and I know in my heart that is right.  
I have gone through the hotel to pick up my stuff and say goodbye, but you were not. So I take mine and I leave you this letter. I know it's a horrible way to say goodbye, especially because I do not know if we'll see in the future. I am confident that if and when that happens, I hope you will have learned to forgive so great disregard for me. You have always been my best friends and I love you, you know. That will never change. My biggest wish is that both of you are well and happy.  
As I write, it is almost to dawn. Hannibal is finalizing preparations for our trip: we're going to come back to Lithuania together. We will live there with the guys (I went to pick them from the shelter a few hours ago and I said goodbye to Peter), in a huge property where they will have plenty of room to run and play. They will not lack anything and they will be happy, just like me. It is the dream of our lives.  
I already say goodbye. Take care of youselves and please do not hate me_ _—_ _not too much, at least. Be happy. I love you._

Love:  
Will

They had to read it twice to accept it. And yet the second reading was no less painful for them than the first. Bella left the letter on the counter and walked a few steps, trying to hold back though his shoulders shook with the force of her sobs. Jack knew exactly how she felt. He went immediately to hug her from behind and tried to comfort her, but they both knew that nothing could be done to alleviate their pain or to change things.

'He's gone, Jack. He is gone.'

Jack kissed his wife's curly hair and pressed her against his chest harder, as she would not stop mourn.

Several years ago, when they both were a young couple was vacationing in Italy, Bella had received a similar letter from his sister Gladys: the girl thought she had found love with a noble man who owned a castle on the coast, away where the girls' family lived. Bella never saw her again, and when she tried to follow her trail, she found a horrible truth that could have imagined.

On that occasion, they both had to unite to defeat evil and that was why they had identified it when they saw the amulet. They knew what it meant: it was an old supersticion from the east countries, which was said it could protect others from attacks or stalking of a vampire.

Since that time, they had done everything possible to save Will from the clutches of the demon, but finally he had risen with the victory and had managed to conquer the boy. They had lost the battle and that letter confirmed it to them.

When you decided to voluntarily join a vampire there was no turning back.

Will, the Will they knew and loved, he was gone. They had lost him for good.

All they could do was mourn his loss— and try to move on with their lives without him.

* * *

Night had fallen in Lithuania. Will had just accommodated the dogs in the guest room down the hall, the largest, which was right next to the one he had occupied during his stay there.

For the moment they would live together in the attic, for convenience, and from tomorrow begin moving: Hannibal and he had decided to move to the castle, where there would be enough room for everyone and Will would get at last that home in the countryside he wanted. Currently, the family home of the Lecter was in the hands of the Lithuanian state, but the Count and his descendants still had the right of use on the property, so there was no impediment so they could live there, and deal in exchange for certain maintenance work at the castle. They would be just an hour from Vilnius, and Hannibal could easily cover that distance at night to feed himself or enjoy the nightlife of the city, alone or in company. One hour was very little, when you had vampire's skills.

Will was settling quickly to his new position: see that everything was all right, fix what must be fixed, taking care of some details— he had spent most of his adult life in the hotel doing just that. Besides, he liked taking care of Hannibal and take care of his welfare. The Count appreciated and valued his work at all times. Will felt loved and respected both for his work and his person. He had never felt so satisfied with his life or his occupation as now.

Hannibal had accepted the boys without hesitation, knowing he could not live away from his dogs. And he had also shown his agreement with his dream of living in the countryside, not caring to having to give up the city life he loved and despite all the problems that moving could cause to him. The Count wished his happiness above everything and was so happy he had decided to stay at his side and he had not abandoned him—

As he walked down the hall to his room, Will could not help but feel some pity for Hannibal, realizing how lonely he had been so far. With all that had to happen in his eight centuries of existence: the rejection and contempt of others, the persecutions, the loss of his family, the wandering and lonely life and, only accompanied by darkness and bloodlust— but now he had opened himself to another human being and to love with the trust and enthusiasm of a child and the ecstasy and passion of a man. Will smiled at the thought that for the first time in his life, his partner seemed at last to have achieved true happiness.

Off the master bedroom door he stopped and knocked to announce his presence.

Hannibal gave way and he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. The Count was waiting for him with two glasses of wine prepared. Seeing his welcoming smile and his eyes sparkled as looking at him, Will knew he had made the right decision to choose him.

He walked up to him and took the cup from his hands. He kissed him, long and deep, which the other man received with great pleasure.

'For us.' said the young man, raising his glass.

'For us.' Hannibal clinked their glasses and they both drank. When the wine ran out, they left their empty glasses on a table nearby.

The Count took the boy's face in his hands and stroked it tenderly, looking at his partner's eyes.

'I'm glad you came back.'

'I would have made a terrible mistake, departing from your side again. I knew then and I know now: I love you, Hannibal, I want to be with you.'

The emotion appeared in the eyes of the Count. Few people of who was really important to him had remained at his side: his parents, his sister Mischa— even Alana had ended up leaving him, just after betraying him.

But that did not matter. Will was at his side and nobody could separate them. Even his desire for revenge against Alana had vanished. Why would he bother to seek her or even in grudge when he had achieved everything he wanted and she'll never get her goal? She can live her life with Margot freely, he already had Will and that was all that mattered.

Hannibal kiss the boy, passionate. He held him to clasp him against his body, because cannot stand being away from him any longer. As always, the young man corresponded him with ardor. Both were equally passionate, which was a pleasure for both.

'Do you want us to do it now.' He asked, spreading his lips just to talk. 'It only will be a few drops of my blood. And then I can drink yours, if you let me.'

'It is good to see you ask permission.' Will said, smiling while throw him a meaningful look. They had talked about that topic before returning by plane to Lithuania, it was one of the first things the boy did when they were reunited.

'I have apologized for my outrages yet. And I've promised you I would not drink your blood if you do not gave me your consent.'

'You'd better.' he warned.

The young man kissed him again, caressing his mouth with his lips. He lead him to the bed and sat astride him when Hannibal took a seat at the foot of the bed. They began to undress each other, interspersed caresses and kisses. Sex was something special between them and they were willing to practice it everytime they wanted.

Will took Count's hand and slid the index finger into his mouth. Hannibal felt his body shook, as if a powerful electric current had just follow it. He pulled the finger of his companion's mouth to bite, nailed his teeth into the tender flesh to bring out the blood. Then he placed it back between the lips of Will, who watched him expectantly, spellbound by the red glow of his gaze.

'I offer you what no other man possesses: the ability to cheat death and time, and the power to dominate the beasts that walk the earth. Drink, Will, be my guardian and my partner. Join me.'

'I accept your gift.'

He reintroduced the finger in his mouth and sucked blood. It had a metallic aftertaste but he liked it. The boy fixed his blue eyes on Hannibal's, enjoying the connection established between them and the vision of his partner trying to maintain his composure as his breathing stirring and the desire darkened his eyes and made grow even more the hardness between his legs.

Will made Hannibal lay on the bed and stood up, leaving aside the finger was not bleeding anymore and offering the Count his throat.

'Do you want to drink?'

Hannibal nodded, eager. The young man leaned even more on his to provide him access to his neck. The Count pulled him, placing a hand on his neck, and bit the area that he was first anaesthetized with his tongue.

The boy let out a scream as his lover's fangs tore his skin and blood spurted. The cry became a moan of pleasure instantly, because Hannibal's lips began to suckle immediately and avidly, giving him a pleasure that had been etched into his subconscious and that his body - which had a distinct memory of his brain - reacted with dedication and enthusiasm. He found the experience was much more intense when one was not influenced by sleep or alcohol. It was a wonderful feeling, leaving aside the pain— and even this was too exquisite pain even to consider it.

When Hannibal left him, they kissed again for the umpteenth time. Will clasped his hands with his partner, intertwining fingers. After the ceremony of blood, they only must finish what they've started: they made love, enjoying an union that was now greater than ever.

They belonged to each other. They were happy. They loved each other and had all eternity ahead.

 **THE END**


End file.
